


Fresh Ink

by wehaveabucky



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Alternate Universe - Tattoos, F/M, Florists, Tattoo Artist Bucky Barnes, florist reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-17
Packaged: 2019-09-21 03:10:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 34,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17035458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wehaveabucky/pseuds/wehaveabucky
Summary: You fall under the charming spell of the tattoo artist from across the road who comes into your shop to draw your flowers.





	1. Petal

“Dev said he’d have at least two dozen,” you stared at the bunch of fifteen white Icelandic poppies in your hand, examining them. 

“Too hot for them this year. We couldn’t get that many. We have some in pink?” Zakary pulled out one of the flowers in a bright pink, but you shook your head. This was for a wedding bouquet and the pink wouldn’t go with the colour scheme at all. 

“No, it’s okay. Could I just get another dozen white veronicas?” Zakary nodded, turning to the bucket containing the Veronicas and pulling out twelve. You put the Icelandic poppies in a bucket on your trolley, taking the extra Veronicas and adding them to the bunch too. 

“Is that everything today?” Zakary asked, jotting down the extra flowers on the receipt. 

“Yes, thanks Zakary.” You pulled out your wallet and paid the amount on the receipt, relieved when it was significantly cheaper with less of the poppies. You could make this work. 

It was your final stop in the market of the day and your trolley was overflowing with roses, peonies, lilies, honeysuckles and more. It was heavy to push, particularly by yourself, but you had developed friendships with all the vendors here. You’d been in this industry for a while, working for another florist before opening your own flower shop a year ago. 

On your way out of the market, Dev was making his way towards you, a smile on his face. In his hand, an extra dozen white Icelandic poppies. 

“I managed to get some from a friend the other side of town,” he jogged to your cart, sliding them in the bucket with the other flowers. 

“You are the best,” you pulled him into an affectionate hug, letting him push the trolley out the market towards your van. You fumbled around your bag for your purse but when you looked to him for the price he shook his head.

“Consider it a favour,” he smiled, and you let out a resigned huff. There was no use arguing with Dev anymore.

“I’ve had a lot of those recently.”

“Well, I owe you a lot. If Cindy hadn’t been so happy with those floral arrangements, I doubt we’d still be married.” He joked, pulling the breaks on the trolley. You opened the back door of your baby pink van, grabbing one of the buckets of flowers.

“Nonsense, Dev. You two are made for each other. It doesn’t take a floral arrangement to make a marriage work.”

Dev smiled and began helping you with the buckets. It was more than usual, given the wedding you were arranging for the next week, but it was easy to deal with and you had the buckets in the van in no time.

“You want me to ride with you and give you a hand at the shop?” Dev asked but you shook your head, declining his offer politely. Dev just shrugged, hugging you goodbye as you climbed into your van. 

Driving through the city in the morning was your favourite part of the day. You were always awake early – at least five am – so you could make it to the market to get the best picks. It was always dark when you arrived, but on the way back it was perfect. The sun was low in the sky, glowing softly and bringing a comfortable warmth over the city. Your van, now full of flowers, was scented with a thousand different perfumes. The pollen tickled your nose but there was no way you’d rather have it. 

There were the typical scents people loved in a morning – coffee, freshly cut grass, cinnamon. But you – you loved the overpowering combustion of roses and lilies, poppies and daisies – whatever was fresh at the market. 

You pulled in front of your flower shop, turning the radio up so the sound of your favourite radio station filled the little section of street before your shop. It provided a relaxing soundtrack to perhaps the most taxing part of your day – lugging the buckets of flowers into your shop – and yet you loved this all the same. 

You were still humming the last song from the radio as you moved the car round back to your parking space. Once back in your shop, you turned the closed sign to open and began arranging the flowers you’d just bought amongst those already set in your shop. 

The interior of your shop was probably confusing and overwhelming. It consisted of a few rooms. There was the centre of the shop which was a little more refined than the rest of it. It contained readymade bouquets in a stand in a centre and then covering the left wall. The right wall had typical and more common flowers that people came in for. 

At the back was your station. It was a long workbench and half of it was the till and wrapping station. The other half was your workbench, where you created custom bouquets and arrangements. Behind the workbench were shelves for storage and then rolls of paper and cellophane for bouquet wrapping.

In a room to the left was the confusing room. It was small and yet every wall was filled with an array of flowers. It contained a few seats – old velvet and leather armchairs you had bought from a flea market and cleaned up in your apartment upstairs – and a small coffee table with a coffee and tea machine serving free hot drinks for customers. The room to the right was where you sat with those that wanted a custom arrangement for events. You’d sit with coffee or tea and discuss flowers and seasons around a large table with floral magazines and books. 

Now, after you’d arranged the flowers you’d just bought in their respective baskets, you switched the radio on over the shop, settling on your stool behind your workbench to begin work on the bridal bouquet. 

You were concentrating hard, not looking up from the flowers, when the bell above the entrance rang. 

“Morning, I’ll be with you in a second.” You still didn’t look up from the stem you were currently preparing, hair falling over your eyes.

“It’s okay, I’m just looking.” A gruff voice responded.

“Okay, if you need anything, give me a shout.” You looked up from your flowers and caught the figure of a man disappearing into the little room on the left. 

He came in a lot and sat in the small room for a while, disappearing a little over an hour later. You wanted to be annoyed that he left without buying anything, but whenever you went into the room afterwards, you always found a five-dollar bill tucked beneath a used coffee mug.

You’d never gone in that room whilst he was in there. He was always your first ‘customer’ of the day and the people that came in whilst he was there mainly stuck to the big centre room. They were usually regulars – you had a lot of regulars – that popped in for a bouquet for their kitchen and a chat. So, you never had reason to go into the little room whilst he was there.

Another reason you didn’t go in was because he was daunting. You didn’t look at him much, only saw glimpses of him whenever he walked in and out of your shop, but what you did see of him was intimidating. He was tall and bulky, with broad shoulders and big arms. His hair was long and sometimes, he tied it up in a bun. Other times, it fell loose to his shoulders. He often only wore a simple t-shirt and jeans, the colours always dark and muted. But they were always short sleeved and always showed off the myriad of tattoos adorning his skin. 

You had resisted the urge, for the months that he’d come into your shop, to try and stare at them. You had caught glimpses of them – you saw an occasional pin-up girl or a dark and bold rose. They intrigued you, drew you in, and yet you couldn’t muster up the courage to strike up a conversation with the man and look any closer. 

Eventually, you heard the bell above your door ring again and you presumed he’d left. You frowned at the bouquet before you, half complete. It needed more sword fern. Instinctively, you head to exactly where you knew it would be; the little room.

You nearly jumped out of your skin when you realised he was still in there. He was sat on the velvet armchair by the coffee machine. His left ankle was resting on his right knee and he was relaxed into the back of his chair. He was looking down at a sketchbook in his lap, a few stray strands of hair not up in the bun falling over his face as he concentrated on his drawing. 

“Morning, Y/N.” A voice from behind you called, and you turned to see an old woman named Jean, one of your regulars, peering into the little room. You smiled politely at her, regaining your composure.

“Morning, Jean. You looking for anything in particular?” 

The woman shook her head, telling you she was just admiring your new stock and would pick something in a second, and then disappeared back into the centre room. You turned back to the man in the chair and froze when you saw that his crystal blue eyes were no longer downturned but fixed to your own. 

You were stuck to the spot for a second, mouth slightly agape before realising how stupid you must look and smiled. He smiled back, eyes crinkling at the corners and you realised then that by not staring at this man when he came into your shop, you had missed out on a lot. 

Sure, he was intimidating and powerful looking, but he was also goddamn hot. 

You turned your eyes to the wall of greenery to his left, finding the bucket you were looking for and pulling a couple of sword ferns out and examining them. You were aware he was watching you as you moved closer and you saw him looking at the plant in your hand from the corner of his eye.

“What’s that?” He asked, voice gravelly and low as you would’ve expected from a man of his stature, and yet it carried a certain softness that was surprising and enticing. 

“Sword fern,” you smiled down at him again, eyes drifting to his sketchbook. It was a half-finished sketch of a Tillandsia. 

“Is this okay?” He gestured with his pencil to the drawing and you bit your lip.

“It’s amazing, you’re really talented.” You weren’t lying. It was incredibly detailed and accurate. The man laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. He took the small coffee cup from the table on his right between his fingers and took a sip of coffee, looking up at you with amused eyes.

“Thanks, but I meant is it okay that I draw here?” 

You felt yourself heat up with embarrassment and you stepped away, laughing awkwardly.

“Oh,” you let your hair cover your face to hide your embarrassment. “Yeah of course. I mean, you always pay for the coffee… you don’t have to do that either by the way, I’m just saying-“ The man chuckled again at your stuttering, unable to contain his amusement at your adorable reaction.

“Thanks,” He raised his coffee cup to you in an almost toast and sipped it again. You watched him for a second longer, admiring his features before you nodded, turning quickly and disappearing into the centre room to finish your bouquet and help Jean. 

Jean bought a simple yellow toned bouquet, expressing her excitement at the prospect of spring coming soon. You shared her sentiment, eager for the new season of blooms to arrive, before exchanging in small talk about how cold the winter had been. 

Once she’d left, you busied yourself with the bouquet again, unaware of time. 

“Hey,” the low voice from the other room made you look up immediately from you work, hand frozen on the fern you were arranging. He was stood in the doorway between the small room and the centre, sketchbook tucked beneath his large bicep. 

“Thanks, I’ll-uh…” He trailed off, scratching the back of his head as it was his turn to act awkward. You smiled, standing straighter.

“See you tomorrow?” You suggested, and the man smiled, stepping towards the door.

“Yeah, see you tomorrow, Y/N.” He had his hand on the door handle, back turned to you before you shouted after him.

“Wait-“

“James. But people call me Bucky.” He smiled, eyes meeting yours again and causing your heart to skip. You smiled back widely, biting your lip to stop you from looking like a crazy person. Your mornings just got even more spectacular. 

\--

Bucky came into the shop every morning and this time, when you head the bell ring, you always looked up to greet him. You’d exchange basic pleasantries – a good morning and a how are you – before he’d disappear into the small room to draw. At first, you’d tried to keep to yourself in the main room, ignoring the thoughts encouraging you to join him. 

But soon, you couldn’t ignore them and found yourself venturing into the small room whilst he was there to pick some flowers. He’d watch you as you selected stems, pausing his sketching to see what you were working with today. He’d always ask you what you were picking and you’d tell him, eyes meeting his for the briefest second before you broke away. 

Sometimes, when you were feeling confident, you’d asked to see what he was sketching, and he’d show you. You’d always tell him what it was, and he’d write it down beneath the sketch. 

Today you entered the room and picked some white lilacs. You asked him what he was drawing, and he showed you – Ranunculus asiaticus. You told him and he frowned, pencil hesitating over the paper. You smiled at how his brow furrowed and stood closer, holding your hand out for him to give you the pencil. He handed you it and you leaned over his shoulder, writing the name beneath his sketch. 

Bucky tried not to focus on how your hair fell over his shoulder and tickled his cheek. You tried to ignore his breath on your neck. But somehow, once you finished writing the name, you both hesitated, hovering close to each other. You felt the warmth radiating off each other and your skin ached to touch his. It felt like you were too magnets, trying to pull together but something was pulling you both back.

Finally you stood, your fingers brushing against his when you handed back the pencil.

“It’s also called an Aviv Rose.” You smiled down at him and he tilted his head back to look at you with playful eyes.

“I could’ve spelt that.” 

You shrugged, biting your lip. Maybe you had meant to give him the longer name. You didn’t know yourself. But the thought drove Bucky wild. He watched you for a second as you turned to look through another bucket of flowers. 

“Why do you sketch flowers anyway?” You asked, pulling out and examining an English Garden Rose. 

“I’m a tattoo artist. Across the road, you know it?” He asked, gesturing through the small window to the dark shop across the road called Spilt Ink. You nodded and suddenly it all slotted together. Of course he worked there.

“You got any tattoos?” He asked, and you shook your head, frowning.

“It’s not that I don’t like them, I just… I don’t think I’ve ever been brave enough to get one.” You felt the need to explain that, like somehow, he wouldn’t like you because you didn’t have a tattoo. When you looked back to him though, you saw no change in his intrigued gaze – if anything he looked more interested.

The look in his eyes, propelled you to the chair beside his, sitting cross legged on the cushion. As you did so, Bucky set his sketchbook aside, leaning forward in his chair. 

“Did you design all of your tattoos?” You asked, gesturing to his arm with a lilac. Bucky held his left arm out between you.

“No, not all of them. Some my friend Steve did.” As he held his arm out you took the opportunity to take the designs in. Some were more bold and blocky, like the pin up girl and the rose that had originally caught your eye. But joining everything were more intricate designs with a resemblance to the sketches of flowers Bucky did.

“Do you tattoo anyone with those sketches?” You pointed to the sketchbook and Bucky’s mouth stretched into a smirk.

“Why, think you deserve a cut?” 

You laughed, shaking your head.

“No, it’s just… I think I’d want a tattoo like that.”

Bucky didn’t answer, looking at you intently with his strong blue eyes. It was silent for a while, the only sound the radio playing softly from the other room but eventually you both smiled and Bucky relaxed into his chair.

“So, how long have you been a florist?” He asked, placing the sketchbook back in his lap.

“Since I graduated high-school. I worked at a couple of florists in the city before opening my own here.” 

“Do you like it?”

You smiled, looking around at your surroundings.

“What’s not to like?” 

Bucky followed your actions, gazing at the flowers around the room and smiled. You were right. There weren’t many jobs where you were surrounded by such beauty. He took in your appearance again and couldn’t help but think you belonged here. The softness and delicacy of the flowers around you seemed incomparable to your own. 

The two of you fell into comfortable conversation, talking amiably about your jobs and interests. As you talked, Bucky sketched, looking up occasionally from the sketchbook to meet your eyes and glance at the Aviv Rose. You took the opportunity to prune the flowers in your hands, setting them on the coffee table once they were okay.

“Steve and I went to art school together. We were both adamant we’d be fine artists and everything but then we discovered tattooing and it was just so… exhilarating. Using the body as a canvas. And-“

He was cut off when the bell rang above your shop door. You held up your finger to Bucky, offering him an apologetic smile as you dashed into the main room to welcome the customer. You didn’t see him at first, frowning when you saw the room empty.

“Hello?” You called, jumping when a head popped around the corner of the room to the right. He was tall and blonde, tattoos climbing up his neck and arms. You knew then, from recent descriptions by Bucky, that this man was Steve – the other tattoo artist at Spilled Ink.

“Hi, I’m looking for Bucky-“ Just as he said it, Bucky came running in from the small room, a frantic look on his face.

“Shit, sorry, my nine o’clock right?” He shrugged on his jacket and the blonde man nodded, arms crossed, and eyebrows raised. You glanced at your watch and gasped at the time. You’d been talking to Bucky for hours. 

“Sorry I kept you,” You apologised but Bucky smiled, watching as you returned to behind the counter to continue work on the bouquet you’d left. Bucky glanced at Steve, who was making his way out of the shop already, holding the door open for his friend.

Bucky didn’t follow initially, and instead moved to stand before you at the other side of the counter. He leaned on his elbows, grabbing your attention when you realised how close he was.

“Can I take you out?” He looked up at you hopefully, bottom lip drawn between his teeth. The words died in your throat and you just nodded. At your response, Bucky beamed, standing straighter and backing out of the shop.

“I’ll pick you up at seven?” He called before being dragged out of the shop by Steve. You watched them cross the road, disappearing into the dark interior of the tattoo parlour before you let out a long breath.

You had a date with the ridiculously hot tattoo artist that draws your flowers in ten hours. What the hell were you supposed to wear?


	2. Thorn

“You know when you said emergency, my mind went to fallen into a bucket of rosebushes and I’m covered in thorns,” Alisha huffed, slouching into your couch as Jessie ran around us in a flurry. There were clothes littering your living room – in piles on the floor, draped across the arm chair, under the coffee table. Your dog, a French bulldog named buttercup, had commandeered a velvety dress on the rug, curling up on top of it with his head rested on his paws.

“This is an emergency, Ali,” Jessie thrust an outfit into your hands and you pulled the dress you had been wearing over your head. 

“He can’t be that hot.” You didn’t see what was happening but suddenly Ali cursed loudly and threw something at you. You frowned, pulling the shirt over your head so that you could glare at her. Instead, there was a phone in my face, a picture of Bucky shirtless on the beach. 

Any effort to try and cover your reaction would have been futile and your friends giggled when your eyes widened at the sight. You looked away quickly, pulling on the pants Jessie gave you.

“You stalked him?” You accused Jessie who laughed, shrugging.

“I did what anyone should do,” she handed you a pair of shoes, “made sure he wasn’t a serial killer…”

“And you failed. He is. Those abs have probably sent millions of girls to pleasure heaven!” Ali teased and you tried not to focus on the millions of girls part. Jessie hit Ali, knowing that was the wrong phrase to use.

You looked at yourself in the mirror. It was a nice outfit – pink chord pants and a black t-shirt with black strappy heels. It was less of your usual comfortable wear but still you couldn’t help but wonder if it was too casual and not sexy enough in comparison to what the type of women Bucky had probably been with wore. 

“Perfect,” Jessie clapped, beginning to gather the clothes that had been rejected. You still fiddled with your outfit self-consciously.

“Hey,” You looked up to meet Ali’s eyes in the mirror. “He asked you out. He is so into you. Remember that.” 

You nodded at her words, feeling a little better upon that realisation but you still slumped in your chair, picking Buttercup up and cuddling him to your chest for comfort.

“It’s ten to seven you know?” Jessie crossed her arms over her chest but you didn’t budge, nuzzling Buttercup with your cheek.

“Maybe I shouldn’t leave Butter-“ You were cut short when your dog leaped out of your arms and ran towards the treat Ali was holding out. She clipped a lead onto your dog and raised an eyebrow.

“Traitor,” you muttered at the dog before standing, grabbing your purse and a jacket.

“Fine… but if I have the worst date ever I fully expect to be able to come round to yours straight after and have comfort cuddles with my dog,” You pointed at Buttercup who yapped happily. Jessie cleared her throat and you sighed. “And comfort cuddles with you guys.”

Your friends left your apartment first, disappearing into Ali’s car with your dog and streams of compliments. You waved them off before looking across the road at the tattoo parlour. The clock read seven. It was now or never. 

Braving it, you stepped into the street, locking your shop behind you before staring at the shop again. Step one done. You made your way across the road, the shop growing before your eyes before it was just the door, the neon sign reading open glaring at you. Taking a deep breath, you pushed the door open, bracing yourself for the unknown.

Spilled Ink was not what you were expecting. The outside was painted black and red, the sign in a gothic looking font that suggested inside would be equally as dark. But when you stepped inside, you were pleasantly surprised. It was light and airy, the interior a more muted colour tone than the dark outside. There was a desk to your right, a woman with roller curled brunette hair relaxing in a stool behind it. She looked like the epitome of a pin up girl, her lips painted a shocking red and her eyes lined with jet black liner.

“You must be Bucky’s girl!” She sat forward with a beaming smile. “I’m Peggy, receptionist.” She stuck her hand out and you shook it politely, telling her your name.

“I’m back here!” You heard Bucky’s familiar voice and you turned to Peggy for confirmation. She just nodded to behind a screen, indicating for you to move there. You did as directed, heels tapping loudly on the wooden floor. 

When you rounded the corner, you saw Steve on a bed, face down with his shirt off. Bucky was leaning over him, hair tied back in a tight bun so no hair was in his face and he had gloves on. There was a tattoo machine in his hand and the sound of electronics filled the air. The needle from the machine was piercing Steve’s skin, occasionally stopping whenever Bucky lifted a foot. He’d wipe the skin then return to it.

“Sorry, this took longer than I thought it would,” he stopped what he was doing, looking up to you and you tried not to heat up at his reaction. His jaw dropped and his eyes scanned your outfit.

“You look stunning,” he grinned, eyes only moving from yours when Steve cleared his throat.

“You nearly done pal?” Steve asked, his voice tired and almost a groan. Bucky hummed in response and got back to work. You found yourself stepping closer and admiring his work. 

“That’s the Aviv Rose!” You exclaimed happily, and Bucky smiled. It was incredible, exactly how he’d drawn it this morning except now it was filled with the incredible pink colours. 

“Stevey took a shine to it this morning. It’s one of my favourites.” He murmured, adding a few finishing touches before he sighed, leaning back in his chair. He flicked a switch on the machine, laying it on the table beside him before he stood, removing his gloves. 

“We’ll see how that turns out and I’ll add some highlights if we need it, yeah?” Bucky threw the gloves in the bin as Steve stood, careful with the shoulder where the new tattoo lay. He only nodded in response, rolling his other shoulder. 

“Peggy, will you wrap that?” Bucky called and immediately, the receptionist rounded the corner, grabbing the cellophane. 

“Looks good, Buck, one of your best.” She complimented, and it was then that you admired Steve’s other tattoos. Pretty much all of them were flowers and you could name everyone. Bucky blushed and moved to wash his hand, removing his apron to reveal a tight fighting black button up and black jeans. You tried not to focus on how the material stretched over his pecs and thighs, but you still gulped.

“Well, I have a good supplier,” he looked at you, sending you a wink that made you smirk. “Ready?” He asked, and you nodded.

“It was nice meeting you.” You smiled at Peggy and nodded to Steve. They both bade you farewell as you made your way to the door. As soon as the partition was blocking their view of you, Bucky pressed his hand against the small of your back and lowered his lips to your ear.

“You really do look stunning, petal.” He murmured and your breath hitched. His voice was so smooth and warm you swore it could melt you into a puddle on the floor.

“Petal?” You looked up at him, hand frozen on the door handle. Bucky smiled, face inches from yours. His hand travelled to yours, lacing his fingers with your own and you tried not to focus on the tingling sensation that shot up your arm and through your body.

“Thought I’d try something out.” 

You smiled, pulling the door open and stepping into the street.

“I like it.”

\---

Bucky took you to a restaurant closer to the centre of the city. You tried not to give it away when you entered, but your cover was blown when Cindy, Dev’s wife ran over to you from the kitchen.

“I haven’t seen you since the wedding!” She squealed, holding you tight as Bucky watched in amazement.

“How’s married life?” You asked, listening as she rambled on about Dev and how amazing he was being. You smirked. Told him it wasn’t because of the flowers.

Throughout her ramblings, you kept looking to Bucky apologetically, realising the bubbly woman was keeping you from your date. He didn’t seem to mind though. In fact, he enjoyed watching it. The effect you had over people. 

Finally, Cindy seemed to notice that you had a date and backed off, bidding you farewell before she disappeared back behind the door of the kitchen.

“Here I was thinking I was going to impress you with my culinary choices and you know the chef,” Bucky wrapped an arm around your waist as a waitress lead you to your table. You smiled up at him.

“If it counts, I am still impressed. Cindy is a good chef.” You complimented, thanking him when he pulled your chair out for you to sit on. “Besides, I don’t come here often at all. I probably should but-“ you shrugged, laying a napkin on your lap. 

“How do you know her?”

“Her husband, Dev, is one of my suppliers at the market. I did the arrangements for their wedding a couple of months ago.” You opened your menu, scanning for your favourite dish – just making sure she hadn’t changed the menu. 

“That’s pretty cool. That they remember you for that.” Bucky looked at his menu too, eyes always flitting back to you as if he was making sure you hadn’t run away.

“I imagine it’s the same for you.” You said, closing your menu and setting it down. He cocked his head and when it was evident he didn’t know how to respond, you continued. “With tattoos I mean. People must feel close to you after your arts on their skin. It’s like… a piece of you is always with them.”

He liked the way you phrased that and he couldn’t stop the smile that creeped onto his face, feeling a little guilty at the pride that came with your compliment.

“It is a nice feeling. I do wonder where they go with it, you know?” 

You nodded in response, the waitress approaching to take your order cutting the conversation short. You ordered your usual and Bucky ordered the chicken and a bottle of wine. When it arrived, it had been switched for champagne, the waitress glancing at you before saying it was on the house. 

“That’s something I could get used to.” Bucky smirked as you felt yourself getting embarrassed by the compliment. He watched you shuffle uncomfortably in your seat as the pop of the champagne alerted the restaurant to your presence and you leaned forward, your hair falling over your eyes.

“Hey,” Bucky reached over the table and tucked your hair behind your ears. “Focus on me.” He smiled, and you looked up, instantly finding comfort in his eyes. 

“Sorry,” you mumbled once the waitress left, sipping your champagne. “I bet you’re not used to dating people this shy…”

He raised an eyebrow and you realised he probably thought you were being presumptive.

“I just mean, you’re so… ho- I mean… you and the girls that probably fall for you are all tall and beautiful and-“

“Bucky?”

Your head snapped around at the voice, seeing a tall, beautiful redhead approaching your table. And there went your confidence. Bucky cursed under his breath, standing to greet the woman.

“Hey, Natasha.” He purposefully used her full name, his tone hard and yet all you picked up on was the connection they had. You kept your head down as they exchanged small talk, letting out a sigh of relief when she moved on. 

“Sorry, that was… my ex.” He watched your reaction before finally deciding to speak again. “What you said before about the girls I date… truth is… Natasha’s the only girl I’ve ever been with. We dated since high school.” You stared after the girl, wondering why the hell he let her go.

“We fooled ourselves into thinking we were right for each other and that lead to some… bad decisions on both our part. I… I haven’t really dated since.” You looked up at his words, seeing him now hanging his head. Smiling, you reached over to the table to lift his chin up. He jumped at your touch but only because it was so soft and comforting. He found himself leaning into it.

“I’m sorry, I made an assumption. I shouldn’t have.” You apologised, and Bucky relaxed even more, feeling a disappointing coolness when you retracted your hand.

“I didn’t want you to think… I just really like you. Really like you. And I want you to know that my type is the closest possible thing to you.” His tone changed to flirty and you grinned, shaking your head. Relaxing back in your chair.

“Yeah well, killer abs and sexy tattoos are definitely my type.” You flirted back.

“You think my tattoos are sexy?”

“I never said yours were sexy, James.” His full name from your lips sent him into a trance. If he was standing, he would have fallen to his knees at the sound. But instead, he settled for leaning closer, hand reaching across the table to rest on yours. 

You shared a sweet smile before falling back into flirty banter, ridiculous giggles passed between you. It was probably sickly to watch the two of you, staring at each other with goofy smiles as you shared silly stories and teased each other with food. 

But when the waitress came over with the bill two hours later and complimented you on what a cute couple you made, the two of you no longer looked embarrassed and instead smiled even wider. 

Bucky insisted on paying, despite your protests. 

“You got us a free bottle of bubbly. I think I can get the meal.” 

So once he’d paid, leaving a generous tip and reaffirming the conclusion you’d made that James Barnes was a gentleman, you let him slip his hand in yours and lead you outside.

It was dark outside and Bucky asked if you wanted to get a cab.

“No, I’d like to walk, if that’s okay?” You raised an eyebrow at him and he smiled, looking down at your intertwined hands.

“That’s perfect.”

It was silent at first, although not uncomfortable. You shared sideways glances, stepping closer and brushing your arms against each other. You walked through a park – a shortcut to the street with your shops – and when Bucky stopped under a bridge and pressed you against a wall, you didn’t ask why.

He moved his hand not intertwined with yours to cup your face, lowering his lips to yours to press a kiss against your lips. It was soft and gentle, careful and wary and yet bold, so bold. You leaned against him, needing to press a hand to his shirt covered chest for support and Bucky swore your touch left a burning heat on his skin despite the fabric between it. 

“You’re a good kisser,” you mumbled against his lips when he pulled away, still leaning against him to keep him close.

“I think it’s a mutual talent.” He pressed his lips to yours once more before pulling you out of the shadow of the bridge, this time, wrapping an arm around your shoulder to keep you against him whilst you walked.

“What’s your favourite flower?” He asked as you approached your shop.

“It’s a rose called an Arizona Grandiflora,” you answered immediately, biting your lip before you looked up at him. “I have one inside if you want to see it?”

There was a hidden message there: you didn’t want this night to end. It had been perfect. He had been perfect. And the thought of leaving it here was nearly impossible. 

“Yes, please,” Bucky said, a little too eagerly. You noted, smiling sheepishly as he blushed. He stood behind you, hands in his pockets as he waited for you to unlock the shop door. You opened the door, gesturing for him to come in to the now dark shop. The light switch was by the workbench and so you weaved around the display lit only by the dim light coming from the street and switched the lights on.

The shop lit up with a warm orange glow, and if Bucky thought your shop as breath-taking during the daytime, he was sure he had died when he saw it at night. There was something about the way the shadows fell – the way the yellow toned lights left a golden glow on all the flowers and muted the greens. It felt magical. 

He stood a little way away as he watched you pull a ladder from a cabinet, placing it near the display of flowers on the right wall. He moved to help you then, gripping the sides as you stepped up.

Bucky tried not to look at your ass as you climbed the ladder but with it at eye level it was pretty impossible not to. It swayed before him, hugged slightly by your pants to the point that if you shifted a certain way, he could see your underwear. He shifted his feet further apart to alleviate some of the pressure.

“Here,” you pulled out a flower and began climbing back down the steps. “This is it.” You held it out to him and Bucky took it between his fingers, admiring it. It was pink and orange, looking like the epitome of the sunset. With it held under your chin, it gave you a pinkish-orange glow that made him swoon.

“It’s beautiful,” he murmured, pausing to turn it slightly before he smiled. Gently, he tucked the rose behind your ear, the petals settling nicely in your hair. He stepped back a little and grinned. “Perfect.”

You stepped forwards, eager to keep him as close as he was before, and Bucky smiled down at you. His hand reached out and settled on your hip, your own fingers wrapping around his forearm. He went to kiss you again, but the rose was in the way and he frowned, pulling it from your hair. As he did, his finger caught on a thorn, snagging the skin and drawing blood.

He frowned again, and you giggled at how adorable he looked with his brow furrowed that way, taking his hand in yours before pulling him behind the counter, fingers still cupping his own as you pulled out a first aid kit.

“Roses are deceiving,” Bucky muttered, and you hummed in agreement, letting go of his hand for a second to unwrap a band aid.

“Stronger than they look.” You murmured under your breath, focusing on wrapping the band aid around the cut. Bucky tucked some of your hair behind your ear, hand lingering so he could brush his thumb across your cheekbone.

“You’re damn right.”

Heat danced between you, the feeling of electricity darting from his fingers to your own. You’d covered the cut now and could have let go of his hand, but you didn’t want to. And the way his own fingers tangled with yours suggested he didn’t want to either.

In a split second his lips were on yours, your body turned so your back was against the counter. He pinned your hands by your side, his fingers still interlaced with yours as his tongue explored your mouth. You wanted to reach up and tangle your hands in his hair, pull his body closer and feel him against you but Bucky relented for a few seconds more. You whined against his lips, tugging again before finally his fingers loosened. 

Your hands immediately went to each other. His settled on your waist, digging into your side and pulling you against him. Yours went to his hair, pulling his hair loose from the tie and tangling in the strands. He moaned at the tightness in his scalp, lifting you up so you were seated on the counter. 

As he slotted himself between your legs and your ankles wrapped around his waist, you realised where this was going… where you wanted this to go. You pulled away for a second, letting your forehead rest against his as you both caught your breath. 

“I don’t usually do this,” you breathed, voice uneven and almost a pant. Bucky pulled back a little further, frowning when your ankles kept him in place. 

“No,” you protested.

“But-“

“Please,” you whined, hands gripping his shoulders and pulling you back to him. “I want to.”

His lips found yours again, slower this time but still holding as much heat as before. His teeth nipped at your lip and you raked your nails over his shirt, fingers moving to the buttons.

“Shouldn’t we go upstairs.” He whispered into your mouth when you reached the third button. You glanced down between you, wanting nothing more than for him to take you right here on the counter just because you needed it now. But you restrained yourself, reluctantly unwrapping your legs from around him and pushing him back so you could hop off the counter. 

You admired how dishevelled he looked, his hair messy and as wild as his eyes. His shirt was unbuttoned down to the top of his abs, revealing his toned pecs and the tattoo that stretched across them. You tried not to focus on how tight his pants were.

You took his hand in your own, pulling him to the stairs that lead up to your apartment. He followed eagerly, stumbling as his eyes focused on you rather than the steps. You chuckled at his movements, enjoying the effect you were having on him.

He admired your place for a bit, the homely feel of the flat welcoming him and distracting him from you for a moment before you reached a hand to his cheek. His eyes drifted down to you and all systems started back up, his head lowering to yours to resume your heated kisses. 

This time, his hands tugged your shirt out of your pants and you broke away to let him pull the fabric from your body and toss it across the room. You let him admire your bra clad chest for a second before turning away and walking into the bedroom, trusting he would follow.

He of course did, the magnetism between you not letting him drift more than two feet from you before he felt the cold of your absence. 

Once in your room, you slowed things down a bit, stepping a little away from him when he tried to press his body against yours. You smiled up at him, fingers unbuttoning the rest of his shirt before untucking it from his jeans. Your nails raked up his torso, gripping the fabric beneath the collar and tugging it off his shoulders. 

Bucky was mesmerised by your actions. The slow and sensual nature fogging his mind and driving him crazy with lust. It was like a spell, the way you moved your soft hands across his body, tracing the shapes of his tattoos for a second before moving on. It stirred his blood and made his cock twitch. He swore if you let him, he could climax just from these touches.

Your hands eventually moved to his belt and you relished in the way he was watching your every move, words dead in his throat. It was silent besides the clink of metal as you pulled the material from his jeans. 

The thud of the belt against the floor snapped Bucky into motion, his hands moving from just being hung by his side to taking you in his arms again, pressing you against him so you could feel how hard your actions had made him. You groaned, letting him envelope you with his body, his tongue caressing yours in a way that drove you insane. 

It was his turn to undress you again, his large hands tugging the button of your pants open and pulling the fabric down your legs until it pooled on the floor at your feet. He undid your shoes, pulling them off and you stepped out of the pants, letting him throw everything aside. 

His lips kissed up your stomach, hot and wet against your skin. You moaned, and your hands found his hair, tugging him upwards until he reached your breasts. He placed sloppy kisses against the skin there, biting and sucking the flesh until you were gasping for breath. 

“Bucky-“ you sighed, tugging his hair again, needing his lips against your own. With one last kiss to a mark he’d left on your skin, he returned his lips to yours, his hands moving to his jeans to tug them off. 

You let him do all the work now, unable to move your fingers from their locked position in his hair. He kicked off his pants, shoes and socks, gripping your hips before he backed up towards the bed, sitting down on the mattress with you between his legs.

“You’re gorgeous, petal, you know that?” He looked up at you, fingers caressing circles against your skin. He pressed a kiss to your stomach again before his hands reached to your bra strap and undid it, letting your breasts fall from the fabric. “You’ve been driving me crazy, every day I come into that shop. I swear I fell for you that first day. You sitting there behind a million different roses looking like the most beautiful flower in the world.” 

He tugged you closer, lifting your legs so they were straddling him. You felt his hard-on press against the cloth of your panties and you moaned, throwing your head back and shutting your eyes.

The new angle gave Bucky perfect access to your exposed breasts and he took advantage of it, attaching his lips to a nipple and sending a stream of pleasure through you. 

“Bucky, I can’t-“ you whimpered, grinding against him and causing him to grunt against your breast. “No teasing. I need you.” 

Bucky felt your wetness against his underwear and his cock throbbed again, begging to be freed. He was in a similar position to you, knowing that, although the idea of teasing you turned him on no end, the need to be inside you was too great to ignore. 

Bucky gently flipped you so that you were lying in the middle of the mattress, him standing at the foot of the bed looking down at you. Your hands grabbed at the waistband of your underwear as Bucky’s grabbed the waistband of his own, both of you eagerly tugging the restrictive fabric from your bodies.

Bucky groaned, staring between your spread legs at your glistening folds. He grasped the base of his cock and squeezed. You bit your lip and watched, whimpering to wake him from his daze so he climbed over you.

“You okay?” He checked, and you nodded eagerly, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling his lips to yours. It was soft and slow now, the kiss not so deep as he lined up to your entrance. He swiped his head across your folds a few times, nudging your clit and causing you to gasp into his mouth.

Slowly, he pushed in, inch by inch until he was bottomed out and your back curved off the bed, head thrown back and eyes shut. He hesitated, taking in the sight before him before he slowly pulled out and thrust slowly back in. 

He watched your reaction intently, fascinated by the way your mouth moved and the sounds that came out. They were soft and quiet – gasps of air and whimpers whenever he hit a spot inside you that made your toes curl. But they were sexier than any loud groans or screams he’d heard beneath him. These were the noises, the sounds of pleasure and contentment that he wanted to hear forever. 

He thrust a little harder, pelvis grinding against your clit, so you whimpered just a little louder. Your nails dug into his back and you forced yourself to fix your eyes to his. The look in his eyes nudged you even closer to your finish, the intensity and adoration behind them more powerful than you’d ever seen.

“Bucky-“ you threw your head back again, his name a whispered moan that caused a soft growl to escape his lips. 

“Y/N,” He attached his lips to your neck, repeating your name over and over into your skin so you felt the vibrations of every syllable. His thrusts were shorter and slower now, pulling out only a little and then thrusting back in again so he was fully sheathed inside you. 

“I’m close,” you whimpered into his ear, a hand reaching to tangle in his hair again as the other gripped his shoulder. He snapped his hips to yours harder, eager to get to the point of release at the same time. You whimpered again, and Bucky swallowed it with his lips, groaning when he felt your walls clench around him.

“Bucky!” You gasped, your orgasm rippling through you after just one more thrust, it pulsed around his cock, your body pulling him deeper into you. It took just one more short thrust for him to groan loudly into your neck, your name a whisper on his lips. You felt him fill you, hot and heavy until both of you stilled, the only movement from your rising and falling chests and your quivering lips.

Eventually, he pulled out, settling next to you and pulling you onto your side next to him. You kept your eyes closed, a blissed out smile on your face as you burrowed into his chest, arms snaking around his torso. He sighed beneath your touch, one hand playing with your hair as the other gently rubbed circles on your waist.

“Petal?” Bucky asked, voice rough and shaky. You hummed in response. “Do you think I could draw that rose tomorrow?”

“Of course,” your voice was soft, barely above a whisper, and yet it filled the room and made Bucky smile with joy. He didn’t know how it had happened so fast, but he was adamant he wouldn’t have it any other way. He’d waited almost a year for this moment and it had felt like a life time. 

“But only if you promise you won’t tattoo it on anyone but me.” It was sleepy and the words blurred together, but Bucky heard you clear as day and he pulled you tighter, letting you fall asleep in his arms with the promise still on your lips.


	3. Stem

You heard your alarm blaring and opened your eyes to find only darkness. Market day. 

Bucky was still here, his hand laying softly on your stomach as he lay on his front, face turned toward you. Your fingers fumbled with your phone to turn off your alarm so as not to wake him before you looked at him, checking his eyes were still shut. 

He groaned, hand pushing slightly against your skin before it relaxed again, almost light as a feather. His eyes remained shut, a sleepy smile on his face as his hair fell across his face in thin strands, the rest splayed out behind him on your white pillows. 

You thought he looked beautiful like this. His tough and strong exterior melted away with sleep, leaving behind a soft and gentle Bucky that seemed almost angelic. His tattoos only added to the beauty, delicate art decorating his skin – a sign of strength and yet more so an appreciation of art and beauty. 

The moment your eyes began to drift over his back, you snapped yourself out of it, thoughts of last night flooding your memory. Carefully, you climbed out of bed, his hand softly falling against your sheets. You stood and looked at him, chewing your lip as you thought over what to do. You couldn’t not go to the market. You had another wedding coming up and Dev had got in specific flowers for you today. 

But you couldn’t bring yourself to even think about waking Bucky up and asking him to leave. 

Finding middle ground, you carefully padded over the room to your desk, writing a note for Bucky on a piece of floral notepaper. You signed it with an ‘x’ before placing it delicately just above your hand. 

Silently, you made your way around your room, picking out a underwear t-shirt and dungarees before tying your hair up with a hair tie. Next, you crept into the bathroom, brushing your teeth as silently as you could, washing your face and applying a small amount of make-up. Bucky was still asleep as you grabbed your purse from the chair, blissful smile on his face.

Before you thought about what you were doing, you reached out, brushing his hair out of his face and placing a soft kiss on his cheek. He shuffled under your touch, nose scrunching and lips twitching into a smile before he settled again.

You smiled, backing out of the room and letting out a loud exhale when you were in your kitchen. You made yourself a coffee, leaving extra in the pot in case Bucky woke up soon. Then, you made a bowl of cereal, leaving the box out in case he wanted some. 

“Morning,” His voice made you jump and he chuckled when a spoonful of cereal and milk jerked in your hand and spilt all over the counter. You frowned at the mess, standing to clean it up when you felt strong arms pulling you backwards.

Your back pressed flush against his chest and, despite the clothing covering your body, the feeling of his bare chest against your back sent you a little wild.

“You know, usually, sneaking out only works when you’re not in your own apartment,” Bucky murmured into your ear, pressing a kiss to the spot beneath your ear, his hair tickling your neck. You couldn’t help but smile and lean closer, hands wrapping themselves around his forearms.

“I wasn’t sneaking out, I was-“

“Going to the market, I know,” he placed a kiss on your jaw. “I got your note.”

He spun you in his arms and placed a dizzying kiss your lips, soft and gentle and sleepy, yet it still took your breath away.

“Why so early?” He didn’t let go of you, arms fixed around your waist as he pressed his forehead to yours. His eyes were shut and his voice groggy with sleep. 

“Flower market opens early,” you pulled away, picking up your bowl and leaning on the counter to eat your cereal standing. Bucky moved to the coffee machine, pouring himself a cup.

“Is that where you buy your flowers?” He sipped the coffee, smiling at the taste. 

“No, actually I get them from Costco.” You retorted sarcastically, and Bucky narrowed his sleepy eyes at you. A comfortable silence fell over you as you finished the bowl of cereal and Bucky the coffee. As you were washing your dish in the sink, Bucky stepped a little closer.

“Can I come with you?” His hand pressed to your back, the touch warm and comforting. You instinctively leant into it. 

“Sure. I have a pyjama shirt I’m sure would fit you,” you suggested, leading him back to your bedroom and handing him an oversized t-shirt of yours. When he put it on, it clung to his muscles and you couldn’t help but giggle. Bucky didn’t seem to mind though, and he pulled his jeans and boots on quickly. 

You lead Bucky out of your apartment and down to the van. The sky was still dark, but the birds were singing, hinting at the impending rising sun. Both your movements were groggy with sleep and you focused on walking and climbing into the van over talking. Bucky climbed into your passenger seat, taking in the interior of your van as you started her up. 

“How long have you had this?” Bucky asked to start up a conversation. 

“About four months. Before I had to pay someone from the market to drive the flowers up for me.” 

Silence settled over you again as you drove through the practically dead streets. There was an occasional car on the way to work or a delivery van. But for minutes on end it was just your van on the road, the faint sound of the radio the only noise in the car.

“Do you regret it?” Bucky’s voice was quiet and when you turned to look at him he was looking out the window. His hands were in his lap and his fingers were tapping nervously on his thigh.

“Regret what?” You snapped your eyes back to the road but heard Bucky turn in his seat and felt his eyes on you.

“Sleeping with me on the first date?” 

“No.” You answered firmly. It was true, you didn’t. Admittedly it was an oddity that you had. But it didn’t feel like something you should regret. “Besides, it didn’t feel like a first date, y’know? We’ve known each other for a while.” 

Bucky fell silent again and you chewed your lip, wondering if you had said the wrong thing.

“Do you?” 

You received a scoff in response and turned to look at him. His face held a mischevious smile and his eyes were lit up.

“Definitely not.” He winked at you and you felt the heat rising to your face. There was something about him that could turn you into a spluttering embarrassment in seconds. 

Bucky reached to turn the radio up a little louder, humming to the song. When he retracted his hand, he didn’t return it to his lap, but instead placed it gently on your thigh, thumb running up and down the fabric of your dungarees. You felt the warmth radiating from his touch and relaxed, knowing the awkwardness had now dissipated within seconds.

You pulled into the market into your usual space and cut the engine. The market was semi-open – covered by a roof but with no walls. It was already relatively busy, a few florists of the city walking around with their carts and chatting amiably with vendors.

You turned to Bucky and saw his face light up with awe. You smiled. It was exactly the look you’d had on your face when your first boss took you here. All the flowers, towering to the roof and winding in a seemingly never-ending rabbit hole was a stunning sight. 

You climbed out the van, trusting Bucky to follow you as you went to get a trolley, pulling a list out of your dungaree pocket.

“Here, let me push that.” Bucky took the handles of the cart from your hands and you smiled gratefully, standing by his side. He smiled down at you before looking back at the market. “This is incredible.”

You grinned, leading him to a vendor who engaged in a friendly conversation with you, asking you how the Anemone’s had worked in your bridal arrangement last week. You pulled up a picture on your phone, showing them the arrangement and they congratulated on your talent. 

Bucky watched the exchange with a smile on his face, hanging back and only stepping closer when the vendor began handing you flowers to put in your buckets. He took them from you and delicately placed them in the bucket you directed him to, admiring each flower as he did.

You paid for the flowers, said goodbye to your friend and then gestured for Bucky to go deeper into the market. 

“This is incredible.” Bucky murmured again, and you chuckled, pausing to look at some flowers.

“You’ve said that.”

“I mean it.” He smiled at you. “I can’t believe you get to come here every week.”

“Don’t tell me I’ve lost my best customer,” you teased, nudging his side. “You’re going to stop needing my shop to draw now that I’ve shown you this place.”

Bucky’s smile could’ve killed you then. His pearly whites glinting in the dim lights of the market and his eyes glistening.

“Never, doll. For one thing this place doesn’t have a stunningly beautiful florist making me coffee.” 

You tried not to look to embarrassed by his compliment, turning away from his gaze to fake look around the market.

“I’m sure we can find one somewhere…”

But then Bucky snaked an arm around your waist, stopping the cart and you with it. His face was inches from yours and his chest pressed against your torso. 

“No need, found her right here.” He murmured and then his lips were against to your own. It wasn’t a peck, but it wasn’t too heated. Just soft and loving, making you forget where you were and just want to fall into his arms. When you realised you were in public, you giggled, pulling away and stepping back. Bucky just smiled at you again, pushing the cart. People glanced at you as you walked – most of them knowing you well and enjoying seeing you so happy. 

Vendors would introduce themselves to Bucky, each one seemingly thinking that telling him the first flower you ever bought from them was exactly what he wanted to hear. They told him how glad they were when you opened your own shop because all that talent shouldn’t be controlled by someone else. To which you would again, grow flustered at the compliments and smiles Bucky would send your way. 

“She’s a good girl.” They’d say to Bucky as you left, or some variation of it. You were a good girl, a decent person, a lovely woman. And every time, Bucky would look down at you with a knowing smile, hand pressed lightly to your back, and say.

“I know.”

When you’d finished your shopping, Bucky helped you load the van. He easily lifted heavy buckets of flowers and shrubs and you found your pace slowing a little just because you were so distracted by his arms. Each time Bucky would catch you looking he’d smirk, flexing them a bit more, making the tattoos shift. 

He opened the van door for you, bowing sarcastically and you curtseyed back, hopping into the driver’s seat as he ran around to the passenger side, jumping in with such force that the car shook.

“That was so fun.” Bucky grinned as you started the van, pulling out of the market and onto the road.

“You haven’t seen the best bit,” you smirked but Bucky was already looking out the windshield, leaning forwards and eyes tilted up to stare at the colours in the sky. The pinks and oranges tinted the entire van with a warm glow, the oranges and pinks dancing across the skin. Your muscles relaxed at the warmth it gave off and you saw Bucky do the same.

“This is beautiful,” Bucky murmured, “I always thought I was a sunset person but…” He trailed off, just looking at the sky again and you smiled knowingly. 

“I often think people say they’re sunset people just because they’re not awake to see a sunrise.” 

You parked the car in front of the shop and immediately, without protest nor question, Bucky began helping you unload the buckets, asking you where to put them. You told him to just put them by the desk – you’d sort through them once you were done. 

It went quicker this way – you rarely had any help at the shop end of things. You found yourself hoping Bucky would come to the market with you more often in the future. There was only one bucket left and Bucky had head out for it a minute ago but hadn’t returned. You frowned, thinking he’d got in some trouble, and head outside to see what the issue was.

In front of your shop however was Jessie and Alisha, staring with smirks on their faces at the floor. Crouched by the last bucket of flowers was Bucky, Buttercup barking and pawing at his hands as Bucky played with the dog affectionately.

“Morning,” Alisha sang, her tone suggestive. All heads turned to you and Bucky beamed wildly.

“You never told me you had a dog, doll,” Bucky’s voice was full of excitement and you couldn’t help but laugh – his happiness infectious.

“This is Buttercup,” you picked up the dog who instantly began licking your face, greeting you warmly after your absence. Bucky stood, grabbing the flowers as he did.

“He’s never in the shop,” Bucky frowned as all four of you head inside.

“He has a naughty habit of eating the flowers, don’t you?” You cooed at the dog who yapped happily, wriggling in your hands when he saw the flowers. Bucky placed the last bucket by the others and watched you for a minute before glancing at your friends who were staring between the two of you with amusement. He shifted awkwardly and you shot him an apologetic glance.

“I’m gonna head back to the shop,” he gestured to the parlour across the road and you nodded, placing Buttercup on the counter where there were no flowers. He still pawed at the wrapping paper though, setting his butt down on it with a plop. Alisha and Jessie head into the little room to give you some privacy, getting the message. As soon as they left, Bucky stepped closer to you, hand on your waist.

“Can I see you tomorrow?” He murmured, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. You just nodded, a smile on your face. Bucky grinned back, leaning forward and pressing a heated kiss to your lips. When he broke away, he stepped back too and you were glad. If he hadn’t, you weren’t sure you would have let him stop. He scratched Buttercup between the ears and the dog nuzzled his head into Bucky’s hand.

“Dinner tomorrow? At my place. I’ll cook.” He said as he walked backwards out of the shop.

“Sounds great.” 

“I’ll pick you up at seven.” And with the small chime of the bell over the door, Bucky was making his way over the street to Spilt Ink, still glowing in the colours of the sunrise. You watched him leave with a smile, only breaking your gaze when you heard the clearing of throats. 

Jessie and Alisha stood in the doorway of the little room, eyebrows raised expectantly. You rolled your eyes, rummaging through the buckets of flowers to start organising them.

“So…” They stood in front of you, blocking your path. You sighed.

“I’ll tell you tonight.” You pushed past them, seeing Jean waving at the door. They whined but you ignored them, opening the door for Jean. You greeted her with a hug and a good morning and then held the door open, indicating for Jess and Alisha to leave.

They pouted but head towards the exit. 

“But…” Jessie paused at the door and you groaned, pushing her out the door with a smile.

“Tonight, I promise. Mine at six.”


	4. Leaf

Admittedly, over the years of your friendship, your love life was never a focus of a girl night. It was a fleeting comment – ‘Anything new?’ – when everyone knew there wasn’t. In your social circle, there had been a few dates with potential partners that never panned out and the rest were just not your type or out of bounds. And besides, the florist career wasn’t exactly one that was leading you into the arms of potential suitors – at least not available ones. 

Until now.

So, although love lives were often only part of the conversations held on girls nights with Alisha and Jessie, tonight it would be possibly the only topic talked about. Because really, finding Bucky had seemed to everyone, including you, like impossible odds. 

“Goddamn he is fine.” Jessie whined into her wine glass. She was curled up on your couch as Alisha sat beside her, Jessie’s legs in her lap. You were sat on the floor between them, Buttercup curled up on your thighs, not minding when you rested your wine glass on him from time to time.

“Did he come round the morning after your date?” Alisha asked and you leant your head back on the sofa, lip drawn between your teeth.

“Not exactly…”

There was a pause, the only sound in your apartment being the gentle snores of Buttercup and the faint sounds of 90’s pop. And then Jessie and Alisha’s eyes widened simultaneously, and both leant forward, spluttering on words before Jessie finally set herself on a coherent sentence.

“You slept with him.”

It wasn’t a question – they knew from the look on your face – and both of your friends looked at each other with shock. Then they turned to you and you immediately shook your head.

“No, uh uh. I’m not sharing the full details.”

“Oh come on,” Alisha leaned even further over Jessie’s legs. “You haven’t got laid in what, a year? We need the details.”

But still you were adamant, shaking your head and sipping your wine.

“All you need to know is that we slept together, it was good and he stayed the night then when to the market with me.”

They groaned and protested behind you but understood you weren’t going to share too much. You were clearly really into this guy and they didn’t want to push you.

“There must be something wrong with him.” Alisha shook her head.

“Thanks!” You hit her leg, thinking that she was implying that everyone you dated had something wrong with them. She was right of course, but it still hurt to hear. 

“Everyone has their flaws, Y/N,” Jessie dodged your arm, chuckling slightly and pulling out her phone. “We just need to find it before he shows it to you.”

“That’s a really pessimistic attitude, you know that?” But you too were intrigued. The odds of meeting Bucky had been so slim that now you were sure there must be something incredibly messed up about him that brought him to you. 

You sat in silent thought as Jessie scrolled through her phone. They’d make comments about tattoos he was tagged in, family photos, Bucky with a baby, Bucky with a puppy, Bucky without a shirt (there was a lot of those and the reactions were always the more loud ones). 

And then they fell silent and you knew they’d found something. Your heart clenched. Jess lay a hand on your shoulder and you turned.

“You didn’t tell us he was married.” 

You frowned. Bucky had never mentioned that. You climbed up onto the sofa, squeezing between you two friends as Jessie passed you the phone.

It was a beautiful photo of a bride and groom under a blossom tree. Bucky was the groom – wearing a black tuxedo with a black shirt, all of his tattoos hidden. His hair was shorter but still reached just above his shoulders. He was looking at the Bride with a joy unrivalled. 

You didn’t need to zoom into the photo to see who the bride was but you did anyway. Natasha’s red hair was pinned back in a curled up do, a veil fixed in her hair that flowed down her back. Her dress was silky and tight, clinging to her waist and hips perfectly. Her arms were bare, blocky rose tattoos covering her arms. You assumed they were Bucky’s – before he started getting more realistic in his designs. 

She was looking up at Bucky with that same happiness. It made your eyes sting.

“He just said she was an ex…” Your voice was quiet and breathy – like the words had been knocked out of you. 

“You met her?” Jessie asked, and you nodded, thinking back to the restaurant. 

There was a silence as you processed this. You weren’t mad that he was married before. If it was over, what did that matter to you? But what hurt was that he hadn’t told you when you’d seen Natasha. That he hadn’t told you he loved her as much as he clearly did in that photo. That he’d made you believe she was just some high-school girlfriend he’d been stuck with for a while – not married to. Maybe he didn’t owe you that – you barely knew each other. Maybe it was something you learn about three months down the line. But you were sure it would hurt either way – then or now – and Jessie was right. Better you find out now for yourself than him dropping it on you in the middle of a relationship.

“I think you should talk to him about it.”

You thought about it for a second before shaking your head.

“Not now… I just need to think about it first.” 

The girls nodded and suddenly that was it – the topic of your relationship was over once again. But that didn’t stop you thinking about it all night long, wine draining from your glass in bigger quantities than it had been before.

\---

Though you’d drunk yourself to sleep with Alisha and Jessie and had ended up having a good time singing along to old songs and dancing around your apartment, you still woke up and thought about Bucky. More specifically Bucky being married to Natasha and the fact he hadn’t thought to mention that when you saw her.

You still couldn’t figure out if you were really mad at him. You needed time to see. It was more of a shock to the system – that he’d been that committed to her and her to him. And again, could you compete with that? Not only was Natasha perfect physically, Bucky clearly loved her enough to marry her and how would you reach that? It seemed impossible.

You were making another wedding bouquet today and you were thankful for it. When you got into your shop in the morning and opened up, you felt the sweet relief of a distraction from your thoughts. You focused on the arranging, brows furrowed and mouth slightly agape as you placed flowers and leaves delicately into place. 

That’s how Bucky saw you when he walked in. You were so focused you didn’t hear the door ring. You didn’t see Bucky admiring you from the door. You didn’t see him cross the shop and lean on the counter until he was right next to you. 

When you looked up at him, his eyes soft and caring as they looked over you, you felt your heart skip. You knew then, whatever he told you, you’d believe. And you weren’t sure if that was a good thing. So, immediately your guard was up, and only offered a small smile to the man.

“Morning,” he leaned in and placed a kiss on your cheek, and despite trying to keep up your walls, you didn’t have the heart to pull away from that. 

“I was thinking about drawing that Arizona Grandiflora today?” He stood, glancing around the shop and you panicked.

“I-I don’t have any in.”

Bucky frowned but shrugged. It was a lie. You always had one in, and if it wasn’t in the shop, it was in a small vase on your desk in your bedroom. But you couldn’t bring yourself to let him have it yet – not until you’d talked about Natasha.

“Okay, I’ll just draw this today then.” He pulled out a Jewel Pink Dahlia and you just nodded, turning back to your work. “What is it?”

“Pink Dahlia,” you murmured, busying yourself with arranging flowers. “I’m sorry, I’m not going to be able to sit with you today but I have this bouquet to make and then the bridesmaids-“

“It’s fine.” You looked up and he was smiling at you, but the look in his eyes indicated that he knew you needed time alone. He didn’t know why. But he didn’t want to push it. He liked you a lot and if giving you this space was what you needed then he would do it. 

Bucky disappeared into the little room alone and you chewed your lip, watching him leave. You wanted to talk to him about it, but you really needed time to think about what you wanted to say to him. And you couldn’t do it whilst he was here. 

So, you busied yourself with your bouquets and didn’t hear the bell ring as Bucky left your shop an hour later. 

It was around lunchtime when you let yourself think about it. You made yourself a coffee and sat behind your counter, stirring the drink as you stared absentmindedly out the window to the tattoo parlour across the road.

Part of you wanted to shout at him – demand why he hadn’t told you and why he was stringing you along. Part of you wanted to ignore the topic completely.

But another, larger, part of you wanted to know more. Needed to know more.

And so, when you closed your shop at six, you changed into your outfit for dinner at Bucky’s and made your way over to Spilt Ink. You knew Bucky wouldn’t be there but went anyway. You needed to talk to Peggy or Steve – get someone else’s perspective besides your own and your friends, filtered by the internet. 

Peggy and Steve were by the desk when you walked in, Steve leaning on the reception counter as Peggy sat back on the stool, a smile on her face. They both frowned when you walked in.

“Bucky said you were meeting at his?” Steve said and you shook your head with a small smile.

“I know, I just… wanted to talk to you guys about something.” 

They waited for you to continue and you tried formulating your words in your head but settled with your original question.

“Why didn’t Bucky tell me he and Natasha were married? I mean he said she was an ex but… I… didn’t think it was that intense, you know?” 

Steve and Peggy looked at each other, silently conversing with their eyes before they both nodded. Steve pressed his hand to your back as Peggy stood and grabbed her coat.

“Come on, we’ll drive you to his,” Steve opened the door for you and you frowned resisting a little. But then Peggy lay a hand on your shoulder and smiled.

“We’ll talk in the car.” 

The two of them lead you to an old Mustang, painted bright red. You and Peggy climbed into the front, Peggy behind the wheel and Steve sat in the back, leaning between the two seats. The car was started in silence and the radio was turned down to a background hum before finally, Peggy spoke.

“Natasha and Bucky were madly in love.” Your heart broke at her words but kept quiet, letting her continue. “I mean, Steve and I fell for each other in high school too but when they met, it was just fireworks, right away.

“But when I say madly in love, I mean it. They drove each other to insanity – they were reckless and wild. Mean people. It’s hard to imagine, I know, Bucky being a mean person. But with her he was. And with him, she was too. Natasha is a nice person – a good person. But together, they corrupted each other. And they mistook this insanity for love and got married quick as a flash.”

It was quiet again and you process the story in your mind. You could hardly imagine Bucky being anything but kind and soft. 

“Natasha and Bucky together was a mistake.” Steve said softly from the backseat. “We should’ve stopped them before they got too far. And in the end… it ended messy…”

You wanted to ask how but Peggy pulled into a street of townhouses and cut off the engine.

“You and Bucky…” Steve placed a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it lightly so you turned to look at him. He was smiling at you softly. “That’s not a mistake. Believe me when I say, I would die for Bucky and I would kill for him. If you were wrong for him, or he wrong for you, we would be ending this right now.”

“Instead, we’re driving you to his house.” Peggy smiled, finishing Steve’s sentence. You nodded, agreeing with them and feeling a little more at peace. 

“You still need to talk to him though.” Peggy leant over you, opening your door and indicating towards the townhouse you were parked outside of. “2A.”

You took a deep breath but nodded.

“Thanks.” You climbed out, squeezing Steve’s hand and sending a smile to Peggy. Both gave you salutes, Steve climbing over the middle into the passenger seat, before they drove off, waving as they went. 

You climbed the steps to Bucky’s apartment, ringing the bell without hesitation. You tapped your feet impatiently as you heard footsteps approach the door, then the latch clinking open. Bucky swung open the door, stood in jeans and a plain red Henley, hair swept into a loose bun.

You smiled at him but then stepped forward, placing your hands on his arms as he watched you cautiously.

“We need to talk.”  
 


	5. Rose

Bucky’s face instantly dropped into one of slight panic. You tried reassuring him by stepping even closer, squeezing his arms and offering a small smile. Bucky rested a hand on your waist and you didn’t push it away, watching him relax a little.

“Come in.” He held the door open for you a bit wider, stepping back to let you in to his apartment. It immediately lead to a large living-kitchen-and-dining area with small windows. It should’ve been dark but dotted around the room were enough lamps – all mismatching – to bring light into the space. Interspersed between the lamps was furniture – a small round dining table with five chairs that were all different – like the lamps. They each had a different style and upholstering and yet what brought all the colours together was a bouquet of wildflowers sat on the table. You smiled at them – you’d sold them to him last week. 

The sofa was large and leather, taking up half the far wall. Above it, from a shelf littered with books, hung multiple green plants – mainly spider plants. There was no coffee table and from the looks of things, Bucky didn’t really watch TV, because blocking the view to the screen from the sofa was a giant easel with a stool behind it. Across the opposite wall were canvases – empty, half finished, complete – all stacked in a pile. 

“You paint?” You raised an eyebrow at Bucky as you stepped closer. He moved in front of the canvas, blocking your view from what he was working on. 

“Yeah… I still like to paint after college you know?” 

You just nodded. You wanted to ask to see what he was painting but thought it best not to press it – not when you needed to talk about something else. 

“Do you want a drink?” Bucky turned you towards the small kitchenette, pulling you to a makeshift island made of what looked like an old sewing machine table. You sat on a barstool as Bucky went to the fridge.

“Wine okay?” 

“Sounds good.” You watched as he poured two glasses of white wine out, handing you one and leaning on the counter. It was silent as you both sipped and you took the time to formulate the words in your head. 

“So… you wanted to talk?” Bucky finally broke the silence, unable to bear the thoughts of you hating him swimming in his mind. You nodded again, setting your wine glass on the counter and taking a breath.

“I… you didn’t tell me you and Nat were married.”

At your words, Bucky’s eyes widened and he opened his mouth to explain but you shook your head.

“It’s fine… you can explain later if you like I just…” you took another deep breath, letting it out with a quick exhale and a small smile. “It was a shock you know? I just… wish you’d told me.”

There was a silence again and you looked down at your hands, lip drawn between your teeth.

“I’m sorry…” Bucky finally said. “It was a hard time and… I didn’t want to lose you.”

You looked up again but Bucky was staring at his wine glass, leaning against the counter.

“You wouldn’t have lost me.” He still didn’t look up and you leant closer. “You haven’t lost me, Bucky.”

He looked up then, eyes meeting yours. He relaxed when he felt their warmth stepping closer. His hand reached out, fingers brushing yours as you twisted your fingers around his. 

“But… I just wanted you to know that… I don’t understand.”

Bucky frowned at that, your own face a picture of confusion too. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well…” You looked at the fridge, focusing on the Polaroids of Steve, Bucky, Peggy and some others you didn’t recognise stuck there. “I don’t compare to her… not really, I mean… she’s so… why me?”

“Petal,” Bucky squeezed your hand, shaking his head with a sad smile on his face. “You are perfect. Beyond perfect. I can’t even wrap my head around how amazing you are and how lucky I am to have you in my life let alone…” He gestured between the two of you and the wine glasses and you smiled a little, looking up at him with relief.

“Natasha wasn’t right for me. We brought out the worst in each other. And I’m not going to lie to you and say I hate her because I can’t… not completely. But I don’t love her. And I don’t want to be with her. I want… I need to be with you.”

He raised a hand to your cheek and you let your head fall into it, resting gently against him. Your hand wrapped around his forearm, tracing a flower delicately with your finger. 

“I… look, I know you doubt me and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you everything. But you make me a better person. You make me want to be a better person. And if you let me, I would like to show you how perfect you are because of that and so much else.”

You didn’t really know what to say to that. You were tearing up at his words and the sincerity behind them. And suddenly, Natasha was gone from your mind as quickly as she’d entered – the plaguing thoughts of not being good enough replaced with those of fulfilment and happiness. 

So, when Bucky smiled at you again, thumb gently running over the corner of your lip, you leant forward, pushing yourself up on your elbows to get you closer to him. He met you halfway, leaning down and dropping his hand from your cheek to press against the small of your back – bringing you closer. You lifted a hand to tangle in his hair, careful not to pull it out of the bun. And then his lips pressed against yours and your eyes fluttered closed – both of you feeling each other relax into the others touch and warmth. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered against his lips. Bucky shook his head gently, breathing out a small life.

“Me too, doll. But thank you.”

“For what?” You pulled back to look him in the eyes.

“Not going crazy… for listening and… understanding.” 

“I do understand Bucky. I did a little when I first found out but… I just needed to know for sure.” 

You both finally separated a little, you returning to your stool and he to leaning on the counter. Both of you were grinning at each other over your wine glasses and you shook your head at how happy you were. 

“I think you promised me dinner?” You stood, moving around the counter to stand before him, leaning against the table across from him. Bucky scratched his head sheepishly.

“I kind of thought you weren’t coming tonight… I thought, back at the shop… I’d fucked it up.”

You just shrugged, stepping closer again.

“Take out?” He suggested, arm wrapping around your waist. You nodded, letting him press a kiss to your forehead before he reached for the menu. You chose your favourite along with some spring rolls and prawn toast and Bucky ordered on the phone as you looked at the photos on the fridge. 

When he was done, Bucky came up behind you, arms wrapping around your torso and pulling you to him.

“Who are these?” You lifted your hand to point at a photo of a big group. You recognised Steve, Peggy and Bucky all stood in the middle and then Natasha off to the side.

“Friends,” he mumbled into your hair, reaching to point them all out. “Tony – he’s a bit of an asshole sometimes but really he’s a big softy and I owe him a lot. Clint – he’s deaf and is unhealthily obsessed with coffee. Thor… don’t ask – his parents were history professors. His brother Loki. Wanda and Pietro – they’re twins. Bruce, he and Natasha are dating now… they’re good together actually.” You could tell from the tone of his voice he meant it and looking at Bruce and Natasha stood together, you knew it must be true. 

“Vision – his parents were hippies; pretty sure they were on acid when they named him, but he is mega smart – practically a computer. He and Wanda are dating. Sam –“ Bucky let out a breath of annoyance but there was a smile there and you giggled. “Biggest pain in my ass but… probably the closest thing I have to a brother besides Steve. Rhodey – he’s Tony’s best mate. Pepper, Tony’s wife and just all-around power house – she practically runs Tony’s business, I swear. And then Peter, the youngest, he’s Tony’s little protégé – whiz at computers and tech and all that crap. There’s more but they just weren’t there at the time.”

“That’s a pretty big group…” you laughed and Bucky chuckled with you, head resting on your shoulder as you stared at the photo.

“Yeah well… we all sort of fell together, you know? Some are closer than others. Some I don’t see all that often. I mainly see a lot of Steve, Peggy, Wanda and Clint… and Sam, unfortunately.” 

You giggled again, turning in Bucky’s arms.

“I’m going to need to meet this Sam soon, I think.” 

Bucky crinkled his nose, grimacing at the idea and as he did you threw your head back in a laugh, eyes falling on the painting Bucky had tried to hide when you’d entered.

“Is that?…” you walked past him, slipping out of his arms and heading towards the half painted canvas. Bucky muttered a curse under his breath and quickly stepped beside you.

“I’m sorry, petal, I just…” He trailed off and you tried to find the words to respond but you couldn’t. The painting was of you, a reference photo pinned to the top. You were reaching to grab a fern from the little room except the way Bucky had painted it, you were reaching for an empty space – yet all around you were different flowers Icelandic poppies, Veronicas, the Aviv rose, ferns, garden roses… everything. 

“It’s… so beautiful…” you reached out as if to touch the flowers but stopped before they reached the canvas, hovering above them. Bucky let out a breath, soft and warm on your neck before he reached a hand out to the painting too, pointing at the empty space.

“I was saving that for the Arizona Grandiflora,” he explained and you bit your lip, feeling a little overwhelmed. 

“It’s incredible. You’re so talented.” 

Bucky blushed at your compliment, turning away from you to look at the pile of canvases against the wall.

“Truth is, I haven’t painted anything like this in a while.” 

You looked to the paintings stacked to the wall. They were dark, mostly unfinished, yet still beautiful. Most of them were of Steve or Peggy in the shop – some of his other friends (those a little lighter). You flipped through the paintings, crouching beside them. Occasionally there’d be a small flower painting – probably from one of his sketches that he’d turned into a painting.

“Before we talked I tried to paint little flowers,” Bucky stood above you, watching you admire a painting of a red rose. “And then when we finally talked I started painting that one and… I don’t know I guess you’ve been my muse since because I can’t stop painting it…”

You stood again, still a little in awe of the whole situation. But you wanted to express to Bucky how amazing this was to you and so moved to hug him, wrapping your arms around his neck as his snaked around your waist.

“You are an incredible man, James Barnes,” you whispered, smiling up at him. Bucky couldn’t help but smile back, his heart swelling at your words. He was about to lean in and kiss you, lips mere inches from yours, when the doorbell rang. Reluctantly, he stepped out of your arms and smiled apologetically.

“Where are the plates?” You asked as Bucky made his way to the door. He gestured to the cupboard, buzzing the delivery guy up and opening the door. You pulled out plates, searching drawers for cutlery, and took them to the little table. 

“These flowers look good,” you gestured to the vase in the centre of the table as Bucky lay out the food, grabbing your wine glasses from the kitchen. 

“Yeah, well. I’d like more flowers in here I think… I have the plants over by the sofa but I just… I don’t know. I like all the flowers you have you know? Reminds me of you a little.” He smiled sheepishly as he took the lids off the food. You couldn’t stop the beaming smile overtaking your face and you shook your head at him. 

The two of you exchanged flirty conversation over dinner, sitting right next to each other at the table despite the space. Once you were full, you leant against Bucky’s arm, letting him wrap an arm around your waist as he finished his rice. You felt full and happy… and a little tipsy. The two of you were now halfway through a second bottle of wine and Bucky’s cheeks were flushed with the alcohol, hand rubbing lazy circles around your hipbone as he ate.

“Was this your plan all along?” You hummed into his shoulder, looking up at him. Bucky glanced sideways at you but kept facing forwards. You snaked an arm around his forearm, tangling your fingers with his and laying your other hand delicately on his thigh. He tensed at the touch.

“What plan, petal?” 

“You know,” you chuckled, shaking your head. Bucky watched the hair fall over your eyes and practically fainted at the smile on your face. He turned in his chair, finished now with his food, and you pulled yourself onto his lap bravely. He didn’t tense up this time, wrapping his arms around you and running his hands up and down your thigh.

“I don’t, doll,” he pressed a kiss to your shoulder blade and you sighed as he slowly kissed up your shoulder and neck.

“You buy me food, paint beautiful pictures of me, fill me with wine… and you act so damn irresistible… it drives a woman crazy you know?”

Bucky chuckled against your neck, breath tickling your skin.

“Irresistible, huh?” he kissed the junction between your jaw and neck and you let out a hum of satisfaction, melting into his arms. “And there’s only one woman I want to drive crazy, petal.”

You turned your head, immediately, shocking him by pressing your lips to his hard. It was probably too needy and rushed because of the alcohol in your system, but Bucky didn’t seem to mind. Instead, he tugged your body, so you were straddling him, legs either side of his as you pressed your chest against him. He leaned forward slightly, curving your back so you were pressed together even more, and kissed back hungrily. His hands roamed your back and legs until his touch drove you crazy and you whimpered into the kiss, head feeling light and fuzzy.

When you broke apart for breath, you kept your eyes closed, tongue darting out to lick your lips slightly. Bucky watched in awe of you, eyes hooded with lust. Eventually, your eyes fluttered open and you gave him a crooked smile that he swore made his heart stop. He was about to tug you closer when you stood, lifting your legs and standing beside him. Bucky looked up at you, a few stray hands of hair falling over his eyes from when you’d tugged them out of his bun.

“Going to give me a tour of your bedroom?” Your fingers intertwined with his, eyebrow raised, and Bucky choked on his breath. He stood up immediately, towering over you until finally he began pulling you in the direction of a door, facing you the whole time and eyes fixed on yours. 

You stumbled to follow him, feet catching on the rug before finally you were in his bedroom. You let yourself admire it for a second. There were more plants in her but no flowers. A double bed with light grey bedding sat in the middle of the far wall, unmade but not too messy. Books were piled up beside his bed, lamps sat on top of them. 

Adorning one wall was a large tapestry – presumably African – and you remembered seeing a polaroid of Bucky in traditional tribal wear in a village in Africa pinned on the fridge. 

Bucky waited patiently, watching you take it all in and letting you make the first move. When you stepped to him, hands running over the Henley so they rested on his chest, Bucky let himself touch you again, gripping your waist and pulling you to him. His lips met yours eagerly, continuing where you left off rather than rebuilding the heat – it was already there… it probably never left. 

This time, when you tangled your hands in his hair, you let them pull it out of the bun, the tie falling to the floor as his hair cascaded freely down. Bucky let out a breathy moan when you tugged gently at his hair, not holding back anymore. You watched him, head back and eyes closed, mouth slightly parted as he felt your hands trailing down his abs. 

You stepped back a little and Bucky frowned at the absence of your warmth, eyes fluttering open. You just smiled at him, lowering yourself to your knees on the floor in front of him. Bucky groaned loudly, hand brushing through your hair as he looked down at you. 

“Shirt off,” you pulled at the fabric and Bucky immediately complied, tugging the material over his head. Your fingers tugged the belt quickly off him, pulling both his jeans and underwear off swiftly. His cock sprung up eagerly and you grinned up at him, taking him in your hand softly. 

Bucky bit his lip and muffled a groan when you touched him, watching as you pumped him slowly.

“You okay?” You asked, smirking a little. Bucky nodded, groaning again when you swiped your thumb over his slit, spreading the pre-cum over his tip. He spread his legs slightly wider to balance himself, one arm hanging loosely by his side as the other tangled in your hair. 

You fixed your eyes to his as you wrapped your lips around his tip, tongue gently licking the underside of his cock as you sucked gently. When he cursed and threw his head back you moaned too, causing him to rut his hips slightly and thrust deeper. He was about to apologise, but before he could you took more of him in, one hand still wrapped around the base as the other rested gently on his thighs to steady yourself. 

Bucky watched then, your head bobbing gently. He couldn’t believe it was you still – he hadn’t the first time. That he got to see you like this. That you were this sweet and innocent florist with a heart of gold 99% of the time and then he was the one that had seen you like this, twice – moaning through your dirty mouth with eyes full of lust, voice full of sex. 

“God, doll,” Bucky finally spoke, his voice husky and low. It caused a shiver of pleasure to rush through you and instinctively you spread your legs. Bucky saw and lifted the hand resting on his thigh off. “Touch yourself.”

You didn’t need to be told twice, hand trailing up your leg and beneath your skirt. Bucky watched as you hollowed your cheeks, softly licking up his shaft as you pulled your skirt over your thighs, bunching it up above your hips so he could see your finger slip gently into your underwear. 

Bucky growled, his hand in your hair tightening so you took him even deeper. You moaned when your finger flicked your clit and Bucky cursed loudly, eyes darkening as he watched you. You kept your eyes fixed to his, quickening your pace of your fingers on your clit as you sucked harder, bobbing your head up and down and pumping the base with your hand. 

“Stop!” Bucky cried, hips bucking forwards to counter his words. But you complied, stilling your movements and pulling off him. He was throbbing and the tip was an angry purple, pulsing with pre-cum. 

“Shit… shit, petal.” Bucky breathed, stepping backwards to look at you. You stood, not complaining when his hand wrapped around your forearm and pulled you to him. His lips melded to yours, tongue swiping to taste himself on your own. You whimpered when his hand grasped your ass squeezing hard and giving it a small slap before letting you go. 

He didn’t need to use words to tell you to strip, his eyes were instruction enough, and you pulled the clothes from your body, tugging at your bra and underwear until you were completely naked before him. He sat back on the bed and you grinned, climbing over him.

There was no hesitation from either of you tonight. Both of you wanted it without a doubt and so when your lips met his, you were lowered onto his cock – already deep inside you and making you moan. 

“Shit,” Bucky whined, lips attaching to your neck. You took control at first, lifting your hips gently up and hard back down. You pulled away from Bucky, pushing him down onto the bed so he was laying beneath you. Instantly, Bucky’s hands found your waist, eyes staring up at you and occasionally flittering to your breasts in front of him. 

“God, you’re perfect.” Bucky growled again and you moaned in approval, arching your back and grinding your hips a bit to create more friction. You became sloppy eventually, slowing and losing control of your actions as his cock brushed against your walls so perfectly. Bucky noticed, lost in your increased breathing and moans. So, when you collapsed against him with a moan, Bucky didn’t hesitate in taking control, bucking up into you until both of you were chanting the others name, arms wrapped tightly around each other.

“Come on, petal,” Bucky growled into your ear as you whimpered, a squeak escaping your mouth when you felt his hand grab your ass again, helping him push deeper into you. “Cum for me.”

You lost it then, walls clenching around him as he continued his thrusts into you, spilling into you with a loud groan. 

You lay on top of him for a while, gasping for breath as Bucky placed kisses across your shoulder, tucking your hair out the way. Slowly, you lifted yourself off him, collapsing not so elegantly next to him with a gasp. Bucky turned his head to look at you, watching your chest heave with your laboured breaths and your eyes flutter shut.

“That was fun,” you finally squeaked out, breaking the silence of the room besides the heavy pants. Bucky let out a loud laugh, clutching his abs as he squeezed his eyes shut. 

“What?” you pouted, rolling onto your stomach and propping yourself up slightly so you were draped over half his body. Bucky’s arm instantly snaked around your waist, eyes meeting yours with an amused glint.

“Nothing, it’s just… we go from nought to sixty in like … ten seconds, petal. I like it.” He grinned, and you giggled, feeling a little embarrassed.

“Yeah well, I told you before, Barnes,” you traced a hand over the tattoo on his chest, snuggling your face into the crook of his neck and placing a kiss there. “You drive me crazy.”

“You also said I was irresistible,” Bucky reminded and you let out a sigh, shaking your head.

“Don’t get cocky on me now.”

You let the silence fill the room again, just holding each other as you both lay sleepily in the darkening room. Bucky ran his fingers across your spine, eyes drifting shut gently. You watched him relax beneath you, your own eyes heavy with sleep.

“Bucky…” you whispered, afraid you’d wake him if he’d fallen asleep. Bucky hummed in response and so, you continued. “The Arizona Grandiflora… I want you to tattoo it on me but… it feels… too soon? You know? I want to be ready for it.”

It sounded stupid saying it – you’d been so intimate with him already and yet… this was something you wanted to wait to do. But it meant total sense to you – you were just terrified Bucky would be upset. 

Instead, Bucky pulled you closer, placing a kiss into your hair as he shut his eyes completely. 

“Whatever you want, petal. I’m ready when you are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next few chapters are drabbles that happen in the following year of the relationship. if you'd like to skip these and instead just read the ending, head to the final chapter!


	6. Flower Talk

You were turning down every date idea Bucky had for the weekend and he had no idea why. First it was his idea to drive to the beach for the day. Then it was his idea to go to the cinema and dinner. And then you even declined his offer for movie and take out at his. 

He’d, sneakily, checked your work calendar and there were no events this weekend. All it said was “shop shut” for the entire weekend. So it wasn’t like you were busy. 

He was sure you’d tell him if you were going out of town. You’d talked a lot about your family already and there was no sign of hesitation whenever you talked about it. So Bucky thought the worst.

You were going to break up with him. 

Friday morning, he came into the shop as usual, kissing you on the forehead and wishing you a good morning before he disappeared into the little room. He tried to draw a flower but nothing looked right. 

“You were turning down every date idea Bucky had for the weekend and he had no idea why. First it was his idea to drive to the beach for the day. Then it was his idea to go to the cinema and dinner. And then you even declined his offer for movie and take out at his. 

He’d, sneakily, checked your work calendar and there were no events this weekend. All it said was “shop shut” for the entire weekend. So it wasn’t like you were busy. 

He was sure you’d tell him if you were going out of town. You’d talked a lot about your family already and there was no sign of hesitation whenever you talked about it. So Bucky thought the worst.

You were going to break up with him. 

Friday morning, he came into the shop as usual, kissing you on the forehead and wishing you a good morning before he disappeared into the little room. He tried to draw a flower but nothing looked right. 

“Rhododendron” You said when you saw what he was drawing, a smile on your face as you searched the room for the flower you were looking for. Bucky watched you, chewing his lip nervously before he set the sketchbook aside and rest his elbows on his knees, hands clasped in front of him. 

“Are you going to break up with me?” 

You whirled around at his words, eyes wide. You would’ve laughed at the absurdity of his statement had it not been for in he seriousness in his eyes. 

“What the hell made you think that?” And then a bubble of anxiety grew. “Do you want me to?”

“No, god no Petal, but I just... you’ve been turning down every date suggestion I had for this weekend and... your calendar says you aren’t busy so-“

“-I am busy.” You sighed, crossing the room and standing before him. You nudged his knees and he parted them slightly, letting you move between his legs. Your hands tangled in his hair, making sure he was looking up at you, as his hands lay softly on the back of your knees. 

“I didn’t want to tell you because... you’d want to come and this thing it’s... a big deal and I tend to get a little... over excited when I’m there.” 

Bucky frowned and you sighed again, giving in.

“It’s a flower show. At the Botanical Gardens. It happens once a year and it’s a pretty big deal. There’s loads of vendors and landscapers and everything and it’s just this big-“ you waved your arm a little, trying to find the word “-festival of flowers.”

Bucky smiled, instantly loving the idea, and he squeezed your legs, excitement growing in his eyes. 

“Please can I come, Petal.”

“Bucky, I told you. I go insane when I’m there. You’d be utterly repulsed by me by the end of the day.” You laughed, trying to step out of his grasp but he held you still, hands travelling to your hips. 

“You came with me to that Tattoo convention the other week and watched me freak out.”

“That was you freaking out? You were so cool the entire time!”

“Please, Petal. I promise you won’t repulse me.” Bucky looked up at you with doe eyes and you tried not to get sucked in, shaking your head. But then his bottom lip jutted out in the most adorable pout and you felt yourself give in again. 

“Fine,” You whined, running your thumb over his lip. Bucky smiled, taking your wrist in his hand a moving your hand so he kissed your palm. 

“But it’s an early start,” you shook your hand from his grasp, pointing a finger at him. 

“I can stay here.” He suggested, finally letting you escape his grasp. You shook your head at him again but couldn’t fight the smile creeping onto your face as you left the room, leaving Bucky to draw again. 

—-

The next morning, Bucky woke up to your alarm. At first, he groaned, tugging you closer. But then he realised your plans for the day and shot awake. You watched him with a sleepy smile, enjoying his excitement that almost matched your own. 

“Come on,” you giggled, standing from the bed. “Get dressed.”

You pulled on a grey sweatshirt with embroidered flowers down the arms and a denim skirt, matching it with a pair of floral sneakers. Bucky wore a white t-shirt with a bold red rose print and black jeans, his signature boots cladding his feet. 

There was only time for a small breakfast, both of you sheepishly smiling at one another’s excitement as you wolfed down pieces of buttered toast and chugged coffee. 

Bucky drove his bike to the show, you seated behind him with your arms around his waist. It was dawn, the sun rising in the sky and the beauty of the morning trebled your excitement. So much so that when you pulled into the car park, you practically leaped off the bike. 

Bucky chuckled, stowing the helmets away before taking your outstretched hand, letting you pull him to the entrance. 

It was already relatively busy and as you made your way through the show, you were stopped by numerous people. Bucky was introduced to various vendors, landscapers, clients and friends as you made your way around. He watched as your smile grew with each exhibit, excitement glistening in your eyes as you took in arrangements and he could practically hear your brain spinning with ideas. 

Bucky thought it was incredible too. There were flowers here he swore looked like hey belonged on Mars and the gardens were ones he dreamed of having. 

It was when you both stopped in front of a garden that he knew. It was a cottage garden, landscaped by someone from England. There was a small area of grass, intersected by a path that looked like stepping stones. Surrounding the grass were flower beds, absolutely full with more flowers than he could name. At the end of the path was a small pond, behind it a bench sat under an archway. Roses and other climbing plants twirled their way around the arch, shading the bench from the sun. 

You looked in awe at the beauty of it and Bucky tore his eyes away from it for a second to look at you. This was it. He wanted this with you. A house with a garden like this. 

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” You turned to look at him and Bucky felt his breath hitch in his throat. 

“I love you.” 

Neither of you had said it yet and when the words escaped his lips, Bucky didn’t know why. Because it was so obvious hat he had loved you from the start. That he’d wanted this from the start. That you were it for him. 

His confession had shocked you and you let your mouth fall open in shock. But without hesitation, you stepped closer to him, arms snaking around his neck. Your lips pressed to his, soft and smooth. When you parted, you rested your forehead against his, a smile tugging at your lips as the words came naturally to you too. 

“I love you, Bucky.”


	7. Picnic in the Park

It was summer. The sun was streaming through your shop and brightening the flowers – the pinks, greens, blues and yellows so much livelier than usual. 

Bucky sat in the little room as usual, sketchbook laid on his lap as he drew a Marigold. Buttercup was curled up at his feet, in a patch of sun from the window. Bucky had finished the outline but didn’t want to leave yet, so he traced the sketch onto thicker paper and pulled out his travel paints, filling the stems with vibrant green and the petals with a golden yellow. He didn’t have any appointments today. He was planning on staying here until close. 

The shop was slow today – everyone was probably either at the beach or in their garden. Even some of your regulars hadn’t made it in today. You stood from your workbench, having finished all of the little tasks you had wanted to do for the day, and moved to the doorway of the little room. 

Bucky looked up immediately and smiled, brighter than the sun outside, setting down his paintbrush and placing his sketchbook on the table. You took it as an invitation and crossed the room, perching on one leg as he played with your hair. 

“Why don’t we take a long lunch?” You suggested, looking out the window. “I’ll pack a picnic with the leftovers from last night and we can head to the park.” 

Bucky’s hand moved across your spine, fingers light as they traced over the fabric of your vest. 

“Sounds perfect, petal,” he pulled you a little closer, lips pressing softly to your forehead.

“Finish your painting,” you stood, kissing him on the forehead and taking the empty coffee cup from earlier from the table. “I’ll get everything ready and let you know when it’s ready.”

You picked up Buttercup who stretched lazily in your arms, whining when you took her from the sun. Bucky watched you leave smile still on his face the sunlight danced across your features. It felt dimmer when you were gone, but he looked at the flower again and smiled, returning to his paintings.

You pulled an old picnic basket from a top cupboard in your living room, Buttercup yapping around your stepladder as you struggled to pull it down. When you finally got the basket down, you had an idea and you returned back to the shop, sitting at your workbench as Buttercup ran back through to his sun patch near Bucky. You wandered around, pulling flowers from their buckets until you had a small bouquet of lavender, sweetpeas, freesia, veronicas, thistles, daisies and alchemilla mollis. Then, you took it all back to the workbench and sat down. 

You thread the flower stems through the thatching of the basket, weaving them together around the handle and the rim of the basket. Then, you thread a small bouquet of all the flowers plus some Ranunculus on the lid. Smiling at your handiwork you left the basket there, running upstairs and picking up the curry from last night, a bottle of wine and some fruit for lunch. You grabbed Buttercup’s lead, some of his biscuits and a blanket, then head back downstairs again, placing all but the lead into the basket.

Bucky walked through as you were finishing, clearly having completed his painting. Buttercup was close at his heels, lying next to his feet again once he stopped before you. Bucky admired the basket, fingers gently brushing the flowers and naming the ones he now knew with a smile. You couldn’t help but beam with pride at him remembering the name of the Ranunculus. 

“Ready to go?” He asked, taking Buttercups lead from you and clipping it to the dog’s collar. Immediately, Buttercup stood, pawing at Bucky’s boots and barking happily at the prospect of a walk. You nodded, taking the basket in one hand and your keys in another. Once out the door, you turned the sign to closed and locked the door, tucking the keys in your pocket so you could thread your fingers through Bucky’s. 

You went to the nearest park, finding it already pretty busy. But you found a spot right near the bridge you’d had your first kiss, shaded a little by a tree. 

Bucky laid out the blanket, unclipping Buttercup from his lead and taking the basket from you. You both sat close together, your legs tucked over Bucky’s as you ate the food.

“When do you have to be back?” You asked Bucky, reaching to open the wine. He shook his head, holding the plastic glasses steady so you could pour into them.

“Don’t have any appointments today. Steve said he’d take care of the walk-ins. How about you?”

You shook your head too, clinking your plastic glass against Bucky’s before taking a sip.

“It’s going to be dead all day, I reckon. I think the shop can go one day without me.”

And so, with that, you silently agreed you’d stay there the whole day. You played with Buttercup, throwing a stick and watching him fetch. You talked about annoying clients and Bucky filled you in on any updates with his friends and you on yours. Bucky walked to an ice-cream van that pulled up mid-afternoon and got two ice-creams, the two of you wolfing them down in no time without even breaking to talk to the other.

You changed positions all day. Sometimes you sat crossed legged, Bucky laying his head in your lap as you played with his hair – braiding it or just twisting it around your fingers. Sometimes you both lay down, your head on his chest as you watched the clouds. Sometimes you sat, legs out stretched, Bucky with one leg tucked up to his chest, as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and you rested your head on his shoulder.

You found a million things to talk about, laughing tipsily as day turned to dusk around you. It felt like the perfect day, skin warm from the hot sun and cheeks glowing. Your bare skin brushing against each others because it was too hot to wear anything other than shorts and a t-shirt. 

Before sunset, you ran to the pizza place, ordering a take-out pizza and stopping at a corner shop to buy another bottle of wine, taking it back to Bucky who was laid staring at the sky, Buttercup curled on his stomach asleep.

When you approached, he sat up, lifting Buttercup onto his lap instead as you curled into his side. The park had thinned out in terms of people there. Those with children had left to have dinner and most of the people that were there when you arrived had gone. All that remained were a few couples that had arrived mid-afternoon with picnics for dinner to watch the sunset and a large group of teenagers who kept disappearing into the supermarket or McDonalds, returning with bags of food. 

You and Bucky sat watching the sunset in silence, filling yourself with Pizza and wine until finally the sun disappeared behind the horizon, leaving the sky to darken. You lay your head on Bucky’s shoulder, eyes fluttering shut as you began to feel exhausted from lazing around. Bucky let you sit there for a while, one hand stroking your hair as the other ran across Buttercup’s back. 

Finally, when the sky neared total darkness, Bucky nudged you awake and you grumbled. He chuckled, helping you up from the blanket before packing it all away quickly into the flower-decorated basket, handing you Buttercup’s lead and pulling you to his side. Other couples were standing too, the teenagers getting louder as a new group arrived with alcohol. Bucky smiled as you stumbled with him back to your place, taking the keys from you and opening the door.

“Come on, petal,” he pulled you through the shop, setting the basket on the workbench to be worried about in the morning. “Let’s get you to bed.”


	8. Buttercup Envy

“No, Buttface, stay.” 

You frowned as you took the popcorn out of the microwave, making your way back into the living room where Bucky was waiting. You hovered in the doorway for a second, watching as your boyfriend sat glaring down at your dog. Buttercup was whining, pawing at Bucky’s jeans from the floor. He tried to lift himself onto the sofa, and failed, Bucky smirking.

“What’s got into you, meanie?” You scolded, making Bucky jump. Buttercup yapped at your presence, whining again and slamming his paw repeatedly onto Bucky’s shin. You furrowed your brows, placing the bowl of popcorn onto Bucky’s lap, before scooping Buttercup into your arms. You sat next to Bucky on the couch, legs touching slightly, as Buttercup curled into your lap happily. 

Bucky sighed next to you, throwing his arm around your shoulder. You frowned up at him again.

“What’s up?”

Bucky shook his head, a smile on his face indicating it wasn’t really anything.

“Buttercup is allowed on the sofa, you know.” 

“I know, petal it’s just…”

You raised an eyebrow, throwing a few popcorn kernels at his face when he trailed off, willing him to continue. He caught two of the three kernels in his mouth and chewed on them with a smirk.

“Okay, it’s just. Buttercup gets all the cuddles on movie nights. I was…”

“Jealous.” You grinned, amused at his answer. “Of this guy?” You lifted Buttercup up, placing his adorable face in front of Bucky’s. Buttercup panted a few times, tongue wagging adorably, before he licked Bucky’s cheek. The man cringed a little but chuckled.

“Whatever, doll.” He squeezed your shoulder but you still frowned. Lifting the popcorn bowl, you placed it next to Bucky on the arm of the sofa, handing Buttercup to Bucky. When Buttercup was out of your lap, you threw your legs over Bucky’s, curling one leg under his thigh and tugging him closer until you were propped against his chest. 

Bucky frowned, placing Buttercup back in your lap and the dog curled up against Bucky’s stomach, perched on your legs. 

“What about the popcorn, you can’t reach it.” Bucky frowned, but wrapped his arm around you, pulling you even closer as his free hand scratched Buttercup’s head. Your eyes glinted as you smiled up at your boyfriend.

“You’re just going to have to feed it to me.” 

Bucky laughed, reaching over and grabbing a kernel, throwing it up into the air. You opened your mouth, but the kernel bounced of your cheek and landed in your lap. Buttercup licked it but Bucky quickly pulled it away before he ate it, afraid it would make the small dog choke. 

“I like this,” Bucky said after a while, placing a kiss on your forehead. “It’s like we’re a little family.” His voice was soft, quiet enough that you almost didn’t hear it over the booming sounds of an action movie playing from the TV. But your heart still swelled at the idea and you couldn’t stop smiling for a little while. And then you remembered what Bucky had called Buttercup earlier and frowned.

“Did you call my dog, Buttface?”


	9. The Unexpected Brunch Guest

“You ready?” Bucky called from the living room as you applied your lip gloss. On a Sunday, one of your favourite things to do was to head to a café in town called The Brunch Club and have a lazy lunch. Sometimes Steve and Peggy would tag along, sitting with you and talking until it became socially acceptable to start drinking. But today was just you and Bucky.

Slipping your lip gloss into your purse, you moved into the living room, grabbing a jacket from the stand.

“Ready.”

You walked to the café, Buttercup on his lead. It was a dog friendly café but you always wanted to sit outside anyway. Especially when it was good weather. It was like that today – the mid-autumn sun bright and lifting the temperature only slightly, leaving you in your denim jacket and a thin sweater whilst Bucky wore a leather jacket over a black sweater. Bucky had his arm around your shoulders the entire way, holding you no more than a few inches apart as both of you discussed Steve and Peggy’s argument from yesterday. 

The two had had a little spat in the reception of the tattoo parlour about some domestic matters. Being nosey as the two of you were, you had sat listening intently from the corner until finally the arguing couple left, apologising to the two of you as you made your way over to your apartment. 

You were mid conversation about the action that had made Peggy mad at Steve when Bucky stopped dead in the middle of the pavement, pulling you to a halt. His jaw clenched, and he sighed, but there was a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips that he was trying desperately to hide. You frowned up at him, deeming the expression strange, before turning to look at whatever Bucky had his eyes fixed on.

A man was making his way towards the two of you with a massive smile on his face, arms outstretched in welcome.

“Well well well, long time no see, Danny Zuko.” 

The man slapped Bucky on the back and then tugged on the leather jacket, smirking up at him. 

“I saw you last week, Sam.” Bucky chuckled, shaking his head. 

“I know, you’re getting better at avoiding me.” Sam smiled, messing Bucky’s hair so more strands fell out of his loose bun and covered his eyes. Then, Sam turned to you, stepping to the side so he was stood directly before you.

“You must be Y/N,” Sam held out his hand and you took hold of it to shake it, but Sam bent down, kissing the back of your hand with a glint in his eye. You chuckled softly, looking up to Bucky who had his arms crossed, glaring at Sam. 

“We have heard a lot about you.” Sam stepped back. “Your shop, your flowers, your unbelievable talent, your beauty, your grace, you’re Miss-United-States.” He wiggled his eyebrows and you frowned, not understanding the reference until Sam tapped his ass lightly.

“How does that even-“

“Alright Sam.” Bucky cut you off, rolling his eyes. “Now we need to get going.” Bucky started walking.

“Why don’t you join us, Sam?” You asked, and Bucky froze, turning back to where you stood, arms crossed, and eyebrows raised. “I mean, you seem to have shared a lot about me with your friend here and I know barely anything about Sam.” 

Sam beamed happily at your sassiness, turning to Bucky who’s mouth hung slightly open at your response. You began walking, linking your arm with Sam as you strutted past Bucky towards the café. Bucky watched you walk away for a second before he jogged to catch up to you, grabbing you gently by the arm and bending down so his lips were by your ear.

“You’re going to regret this, petal. Sam is ridiculously annoying.” Bucky knew Sam could hear but didn’t care, grinning up at his friend who glared half-heartedly. You rolled your eyes, turning to face your boyfriend with a playful grin.

“Kiss my Miss-United-States, Barnes.”

Sam let out the loudest laugh as Bucky smiled. Ironically enough, it was the most entertaining brunch you’d ever had – although Bucky would take that opinion to his grave.


	10. Disneyland

Waking up early came in handy for something other than the flower market run – Disneyland. 

It had been a passing suggestion at first. You were watching Moana with Bucky, curled in his lap as both of you hummed along to the songs, singing occasionally when you could. 

“We should definitely go to Disneyland,” Bucky murmured into your hair, kissing your head gently as the crab number started. You’d just hummed in agreement at first, and then your eyes widened, and you shot up, grinning like a child.

“Can we go?” You begged, crawling onto your knees on the sofa with your hands clasped together. “Please, please, please.”

Bucky threw back his head and laughed, the laugh you loved – loud and heavy, smile wide enough to show his pearly white teeth and crinkle his eyes at the corner. 

“Of course.”

It had taken you minutes to plan. You’d go next week on a Wednesday when it was less busy. It wasn’t any holiday or vacation from school so hopefully the park would be quieter than usual. You’d even roped some of the others in to coming too. Steve, Peggy, Sam and Peter were all on board and ready for a Disney adventure, although you had to playfully convince Sam to spend more than two hours with Bucky.

To your surprise, on Disneyland day, Bucky was awake first. He awoke with you curled up next to him and smiled, remembering your plans.

“Doll,” he whispered, tucking your hair behind your ear and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Wake up, we’re going to Disneyland.”

In a flash, your eyes shot open and you let out a squeal, pulling Bucky into a tight, squeezing hug. He rolled you on top of him, looking up at your excited face with admiration. His hands rested on your thighs as you sat up, sitting on his abs. 

“You really love Disneyland, don’t you?”

You rolled your eyes, hitting him playfully on the chest.

“Don’t pretend you aren’t excited too, Mr. I-know-all-the words-to-Let-It-Go.”

Bucky had a secret love of Disney movies, particularly Frozen. You didn’t know why but once you’d heard Sam call Bucky Elsa in one of their spats and you felt it had to be connected to that. But Bucky had loved it so much that he had requested, when you were making the flower ears for your trip, an Elsa themed one. You had gone for one themed around your favourite Disney princess.

Steve had gone for Hercules themed ears, the god’s ‘Zero to Hero’ storyline too similar to his own to pass up on that opportunity. Peggy had gone for Winnie the Pooh themed ears because she found the bear adorable. Sam had gone for Lion King themed ears, not because he liked cats – far from it – more because he liked Zazu and the song Hakuna Matata. And then Peter had gone for Peter Pan ears, just because they had the same name and he didn’t want to grow up either. 

You were both dressed in an instant, colour coordinating your outfits with your ears. Before you left the door, you picked up the boxes of ears from your workshop table, pulling out Bucky’s Elsa ones. He bent down and let you place it gently on his head, careful not to mess his hair. He stood straight with a smile on his face, the blue tiara ears matching his eyes perfectly. You giggled as he fluttered his eyes, pretended to hold out a skirt and spun around. You pulled your own ears on your head, linking your arm with Buckys before you both head out of your shop and across the road where Steve and the others were waiting. You were travelling in two cars, Steve, Peggy and Sam in one whilst you and Bucky took Peter and his girlfriend MJ in the other. 

As you approached the group you held out two boxes to the girl you assumed to be Peter’s girlfriend. 

“Peter said you didn’t have a favourite Disney character but I didn’t want you to be left out so you can choose from Tiger Lily or Tinkerbell… to match Peter.” 

The girl frowned at the two boxes as Peter’s face lit up. He’d taken his out the box and was admiring it but was more ecstatic about the prospect of his girlfriend having matching ears. Reluctantly, MJ took the Tiger Lily box, glaring at Peter as he squealed, taking it out of the box and placing it on his girlfriend’s head, clapping with excitement. 

MJ looked between him, you and Bucky, who was looking in the car’s side mirror and adjusting his ears. She tried to huff in annoyance, but you saw the corners of her lips curl upwards slightly in a smile and that was enough for you.

The drive to Disneyland was a whole lot of fun. You connected your phone to the speakers and played nonstop Disney songs all the way to the park, Bucky, Peter and yourself singing along loudly from the get go, with MJ eventually joining in quietly after – with an amazing voice. 

When you pulled into the parking lot, you and Peter both jumped out the car, jumping up and down excitedly as you waited for your partners to join you and head into the park. Eventually, you made it to the entrance, tickets in hand and ears fixed to your head. 

In the queue for the gates to open, you took selfies with the group, ears in shot, and posted them to Instagram, ready to assault your friends with millions of Disney photos throughout the day, before finally – the gates opened.

You agreed with everyone to meet at the 50’s Prime Time Café for lunch at 1pm and then you all ran off to do your respective things. You ran wildly with Bucky to the meet and greets, standing with princess after princess for photos before you ran again to queue for space mountain, getting a mickey ice-cream on the way. 

You then went on a few more rides, carefully stowing your ears in their boxes in your bags on the wilder rides so as not to ruin them, before you exhaustedly trudged to lunch with the others. 

After lunch, you all stuck together, going on smaller rides and seeing until finally, the main-street night time parade began, and you all stood on the side-lines watching on. Bucky stood behind you, head resting on your shoulder and arms wrapped around you as you watched the floats go by, eyes drooping sleepily and feet aching. But neither of you cared, the smiles fixed to your faces as the fireworks began.

“Had a good day, petal?” Bucky murmured into your ear, kissing your temple softly as you relaxed even further into his arms. You hummed in agreement before chuckling.

“It went by so fast though!”

Bucky hummed in agreement, turning to look at Steve, Peggy, Peter and MJ, all staring up at the fireworks with tired smiles and various snacks in their hands. When he turned back to you, you were looking up at him, turning slightly in his arms. He grinned back down at you, pressing his lips to yours before returning to stare up at the fireworks.

“How about we make this an annual thing?” He suggested and your heart thudded happily at his words – this weird commitment bringing you closer together and adding another step in your relationship. You smiled happily as the last firework exploded over the park, the crowd erupting in cheers.

“That would be perfect.”


	11. The Stark Party

“Are you sure they’re going to like me?” You fixed your dress in the mirror, tugging at your hair to make it fall the way you wanted it to. You pouted at your reflection when it didn’t do as you wished, the nerves building in your stomach and causing a lurching feeling. 

Bucky came in from the bathroom and smiled, looking over you with admiration. He crossed his bedroom, stepping between you and the mirror, and squeezed your shoulders. He looked down at you, eyes crinkled in the corners as he gave you one of his biggest smiles.

“They are going to love you.” He squeezed again, the action causing the nerves settling a little, stilling the lurching feeling for a moment. “Besides. You’ve met half of them already.”

It was true, by this point you’d met Sam, Peter, MJ, Steve and Peggy. And you had met Natasha in passing. But still. Even before you’d started dating Bucky, you’d heard of Tony Stark’s parties in the house on the hill with the gates. They were wild. They were extravagant. They were intimidating. 

If you had been planning on going with Jessie and Alisha, you’d have cancelled by now. You would be back home on your couch with Buttercup, watching reruns of Friends and convincing yourself you didn’t regret going… until you saw the pictures on Instagram the next day.

But considering you were going with Bucky, there was no backing out. Because this party was his friends party. There was no distant connection where an unacknowledged invite from a friend of a friend would go unmissed. No, people were expecting you to be there. And the most important person of all was expecting you to be there – Bucky. 

So, you steeled your nerves yourself and took a deep breath, smiling at your boyfriend and standing a little straighter.

“Okay then, let’s go.”

-♥︎-

Tony Stark’s house was impressive. It was a modern, sleek building built into the hill it sat on, windows stretching across entire walls. In the setting sun, the building glowed, built in lighting systems making the structure illuminate the hill itself. It sat above the town, looking over the other houses and had the most beautiful view of the winding streets, the park and – as you stood at the door waiting for the man himself to answer – you caught a good view of the street where your shop sat. It glowed red from the neon of Spilt Ink and you smiled, knowing home was just down the hill. 

“And the guest of honour has arrived.” The door swung open by itself, revealing a man in an immaculate suit with his arms outstretched. Upon his face sat an obnoxious pair of sunglasses, red and garish, perfectly matching the audacity of the smirk gracing his lips. 

“We have been waiting forever to meet you, Y/N, now tell me,” Tony stepped forward, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as he pulled you into the house, leaving Bucky to roll his eyes and press the button to close the doors behind you. “What are your intentions with our dear Barnes here?” 

He leaned closer, a stern look fixed on his face that you almost believed had it not been for the little glint of play in his eyes you caught from behind the sunglasses. You glanced back at your boyfriend, receiving a small smile, before you turned back to Tony.

“I was pretty sure my intentions were good and then I stepped in this place. Starting to think I may have settled too soon?” You raised your eyebrows at your boyfriend who smirked. Tony hesitated for a second, as if to make sure you were joking, and then he let out a loud and heart-warming laugh, clutching his stomach and squeezing your shoulder. 

“She’s a good one, Barnes, I might keep her.” Tony turned to Bucky and smiled at the proud look the man held as he gazed at you. 

“Alright, Tony. Don’t scare her off just yet.”

Steve appeared from a long corridor, two drinks in his hand. Your usual was handed to you with a wink and a smile and you raised the glass in greeting and thanks. Steve handed the other glass to Bucky, pulling him in for a half body hug that they never failed to do in greeting, even if the last time they saw each other had only been four hours ago. 

The three men lead you down the corridor, Tony’s arm on your shoulder laxing until it was just draped there half-heartedly, guiding you through his house. As you neared whatever destination you were being lead to, you heard the music. Heavy rock music you recognised to be AC/DC was being played and you glanced at Bucky who grinned back at you, head already moving in time with the beat.

“Tony’s choice,” Steve explained as you rounded another corner and was lead into a large entertainment space. There were a few people already there – Peggy and Sam being the only ones there you recognised from meeting in person. The others you placed based on the photo tour Bucky had given you from his kitchen fridge. Four others – Wanda and Vision, the couple, Pepper, Tony’s wife, and Rhodey, Tony’s best friend. 

“Just because you listen to old cronies and Elvis non-stop doesn’t make my music taste bad, Rogers,” Tony unravelled his arm from your shoulder, pointing his finger at the blonde who was making his way back to Peggy, arm wrapping around her waist.

“Princess!” Sam cheered, stepping forward to pull you into a hug. You returned the hug eagerly, sticking your tongue out when Bucky narrowed his eyes at you. 

“How’ve you been, Sam?”

“Without you in my life? Pretty unspectacular. But now that you’re here the party can really start.” Sam tugged you to a bar where the others were gathered, drinks in hands. 

“Nice to see you again too, Bucky, it’s been a while.” Bucky muttered, shaking his head as he followed the two of you.

“Oh, boohoo Barnes. The more I see your face, the less of a party this becomes.” Sam didn’t even look over his shoulder, just grinned down at you as Bucky scoffed in response. 

“Well, will you at least let me introduce my girlfriend to everyone?” Bucky’s had rested on the small of your back and Sam shot him a smile, rolling his eyes but dropping his arm from your shoulder. 

And so, the night began. You were introduced to the ‘Team’ as Steve called it. Wanda was first. Bucky gestured towards her with a smile and she stepped forward upon introduction, pulling you into a friendly hug.

“If the others get too much, come and see me.” She whispered into your ear, squeezing your arms as you pulled away with a smile. You would hold her to that later.

“I hope you enjoy the party Y/N. We have heard wonderful things about you from James- ow, Wanda why did you nudge me.” Vision frowned at his girlfriend who was holding back a laugh at the blush gracing Bucky’s cheeks. You giggled too, shaking Visions hand and complimenting his shirt. The two were very much inseparable the entire night and you swore you didn’t see them apart for more than twenty minutes before Vision was back by Wanda’s side, arm wrapped protectively around her waist.

Tony lead you to his friend Rhodes, who, for the rest of the night, either clung to Tony’s side or talked to some of the guests that weren’t part of the ‘Team’. Tony told you it was because he’d bored the team out with all of his best stories and he got a reaction from strangers.

Pepper was just as intimidating as Tony, perhaps more so. She seemed like she had life entirely figured out, like she had a plan for everything. You were an awe of her. And to top things off, she was friendly and chatty too, matching Tony’s wit and making sure you felt part of the group.

Pietro arrived as you were chatting to Pepper about Bucky and your relationship. He hugged Wanda and Vision, slapping Tony on the back and then his eyes fixed on you. He smirked, strutting over to where you stood not realising Bucky had fixed his steely gaze on you.

“Well hello, prinţesă,” he bent down, slipping your hand in his and grazing his lips softly across your knuckles. You fought the urge to laugh as he did so, glancing at Bucky who clenched his jaw repeatedly. “Tony didn’t tell me he was inviting models to this party.”

“Alright, kid,” Bucky was crossing the room immediately, hand wrapping around the collar of Pietro’s jacket as he pulled the man away from you. You let out a laugh then, snaking your arm around Bucky’s waist when he moved to your side.

“Ah, so this is your girl,” Pietro didn’t seem fazed by Bucky’s actions, smiling at the two of you like he hadn’t just openly flirted with you. 

“Y/N,” you held out your hand again for him to shake and he looked as though he was going to bend down and kiss it again when Sam hit him over the back of the head.

“Only I get to call her Princess, Maximoff.” 

From then on, guests poured in and you were pulled in different directions, talking to mutual friends of Bucky and Tony until your jaw ached. 

You didn’t see Natasha and Bruce slip in until they were right in front of you. Bucky had left your side momentarily to get a drink and now you were faced with this situation alone. 

You gulped when you noticed the steely eyes of Natasha looking you up and down, turning instead to Bruce who looked a hell of a lot friendlier.

“You must be Bruce and Natasha,” your voice was surprisingly steady, and you silently thanked the power of alcohol running through your system. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

You outstretched your hand and Bruce took it eagerly, shaking it with a warming smile on his face.

“Sorry, but who are you?” He asked, glancing at his girlfriend Natasha and frowning at the look in her eyes.

“Y/N.” 

“James’ girlfriend.” Natasha said at the same time and Bruce frowned, glancing at Rhodes who was currently chatting up a group of women in short dresses. 

“Rhodey? Really?” But his question was answered when Bucky returned to your side, handing you your drink.

“Hey guys,” Bucky’s voice was strained, and he glanced at you with a worried expression. You just smiled, trying to show you were strong.

“Oh, Bucky’s!” Bruce laughed, shrugging his arm from around Nat and clapping his hands together. “Man, it’s been a hot minute since you brought a girl to one of these things, Barnes. She must be something special.”

Bucky smiled and you both looked at each other. 

“She sure is.”

Your moment was interrupted when Natasha cleared her throat, fingers wrapping around Bruce’s arm.

“Come on, babe. Let’s get a drink.”

And with that they left you. You wanted to be perturbed by Natasha’s reaction, but honestly, you weren’t sure you cared right now, and instead, you wrapped your arms around Bucky. 

“You good.”

“Yeah, I’m goo-“

“FLOWER GIRL!” A familiar voice came from the door and you turned to see Peter, arm draped around MJ and his finger pointing at you. A large grin spread across his face as he made his way towards you and you separated from Bucky to pull him into a hug.

“Man, I missed you!” He chuckled, and you laughed at his enthusiasm, Natasha completely wiped from your mind now. You and Bucky followed him to where Tony, Pepper, Steve and Peggy were stood. Tony smiled at the four of you as you approached, pulling Peter into a hug.

“Peggy was just telling us about that trip to Disneyland you took. Sounded pretty awesome.” Pepper smiled, sipping her drink, and that was it – Peter couldn’t stop talking for hours about the day, the flower crowns, the fireworks. Everyone smiled at him, no one having the heart to tell him to slow down, but eventually, Peter tired out and stopped talking.

“Wow, Peter. We didn’t ask for the play-by-play,” Clint said, having joined halfway through the conversation. He turned to you and introduced himself, pulling you into a friendly hug before returning you to Bucky’s side. Bucky brought his lips to your ear.

“Clint is the life of the party at these things,” he whispered before placing a kiss on your neck and returning to his previous position.

Bucky was right. Clint knew exactly how to liven up a party. He told outrageous jokes and had witty, sarcastic, often self-deprecating responses to things that had you snorting with laughter. He dragged you all into a game of twister later in the night which ended with you, Clint, Peter, Steve and Sam in a pile on the floor. 

“What’s up with you, sour face?” Clint called out and all eyes turned to where he was looking. Natasha had her eyes fixed on the pile of people on the floor as Sam pulled at your hair and Peter tried to disentangle his leg from yours. 

“Nothing,” she stood, grabbing Bruce by the arm. “We should get going.”

A chorus of goodbyes accompanied their exit, followed by a slightly awkward silence as some rock song played quietly in the background.

“She’ll get used to it,” Sam squeezed you on the shoulder, only loud enough that the people on the mat could hear. “Bucky hasn’t brought anyone around since the divorce and… she just knows you’re really important.”

You just shrugged, accepting defeat in this situation.

“I get it.”

Bucky approached the mat and pulled you up, laughing when you stumbled a bit from the alcohol. The others snickered too when you fell into Bucky’s chest, the man throwing his head back in an eye-crinkling laugh they hadn’t heard in a long time. 

“You ready to go, Petal?” He asked, arms snaking around your waist as yours wrapped around his neck. You just hummed in response, kissing him softly on the lips before pulling away. 

You made your rounds of the group, hugging them all goodbye and promising Tony you would come to the next party. Finally, you returned to Bucky’s side, shooting the ‘Team’ a small wave and a smile before letting Bucky guide you out of the building.

“Do you think they liked me?” You asked, leaning into Bucky’s side as the two of you began walking down the hill to your apartment. Bucky smiled down at you, pulling you even closer.

“I know they loved you.”


	12. Nice Buns, Princess

“There is no way you can say Han shot first.” Sam rolled his eyes and you glared at him. “George Lucas said he didn’t want Han to shoot first, therefore, he didn’t shoot first.”

“Bullshit. George Lucas can say what he likes. That scene was shot once with different angles. Other angles may disguise the fact that Han shot first, but in the filming of that scene, Han shot first. You can’t change that.” You argued back, jabbing his chest with your finger. Bucky watched on from a single arm chair, growing a little jealous at the connection growing between you and Sam.

Bucky liked Star Wars. What wasn’t there to like about it? But apparently just watching the movies wasn’t enough and when Sam had suggested a Star Wars marathon weekend at his place with you, Bucky, Peggy and Steve, it became very apparent that your knowledge on the movies and Sam’s matched perfectly. Steve, Peggy and Bucky had watched the movie in relative silence, Steve asking you or Sam a question from time to time, which then ultimately lead to an argument – like this one. 

“Whatever, it doesn’t make Han a bad guy though.” Sam muttered in response to your argument and you smiled triumphantly, knowing you’d won. 

“Never said it did, Wilson.” 

You and Sam smirked at each other before Sam threw his arm around your shoulder, shaking his head as his laughter filled the room. Bucky tensed. Only Steve noticed. 

In a break between the original trilogy and the second one, Steve and Bucky head into the kitchen to make more popcorn. Well, Bucky announced loudly, with a bit of a tone, that he was making more ‘damn popcorn’, and Steve had followed.

“I’m gonna kill Wilson if he keeps doin’ that,” Bucky growled, throwing the packet of popcorn into the microwave and slamming the door shut.

“Oy, try not to destroy my kitchen, Barnes!” Sam called from the living room and Bucky let out an exasperated breath.

“You know Sam wouldn’t do that. You two are best mates-“ Bucky moved to interrupt Steve but Steve shook his head, “-no, don’t deny it. He is one of the closest people you’ve got and, even if he does get on your nerves sometimes, he was there for you when a lot of people in the group weren’t. Remember that. Sam wouldn’t try anything with Y/N. If anything, he’d cut the balls of the man that would.” 

Bucky silenced, knowing he was just being petty and childish. He hated that he thought that way. But you were something so important to him, that he even felt threatened by Sam, someone who he knew would never try anything and yet he forced himself to doubt that anyway. 

For the rest of the movie marathon, Bucky was silent. He tensed whenever Sam got closer, but didn’t comment, instead breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth.   
When you finally dozing off, Bucky leapt up, eager to stop you from curling into Sam’s side. You frowned when he scooped you into his arms but smiled, nestling your head into his chest.

“You gonna carry me the entire way home, sweetie?” Your voice was full of sleep and Bucky found his worries dripping away.

“Depends what kind of reward I get for it, petal.” Bucky murmured, loud enough so only you heard, and you giggled.

“Night guys.” He called to the others as he carried you out of the living room.

“Wait!” Sam called, jogging into the hallway. You shifted in Bucky’s arms, turning to look at Sam. “You two wanna go see the new one tomorrow?”

“Can’t,” Bucky’s jaw clenched. “Full up with appointments tomorrow. Got a big back piece to do.”

“But I’ll go with you, Sammy,” you murmured, shooting him a sleepy smile. “As long as you promise not to talk bullshit theories through the entire thing.”

Sam smirked at you, backing into the living room. “I’ll try not to. Night, man.” He nodded at Bucky who managed a curt nod back before swiftly carrying you out of the apartment. 

\--

The next day, you threw on a Star Wars shirt and jeans, doing your hair into two space buns like Leia. Bucky watched on from your bed, a pout set on his lips he was unaware was even there. You frowned at him, crawling up onto the bed and pressing your lips to his, kissing the pout away. Bucky responded immediately, hand pushing the back of your neck so he could deepen the kiss.

“What’s up?” You asked when he broke the kiss. Bucky huffed and looked into your eyes, almost pleadingly.

“Do you have to hang out with Wilson so much?” 

You were taken aback, to the point that you fell back, sitting on your haunches and frowning at your boyfriend.

“Why not? He’s your friend, isn’t he?”

“Yeah but it’s Sam.”

“Again, not getting the point here.” There was a silence as it took you a beat to realise. “Are you jealous? First Buttercup and now-“

“-Y/N, c’mon.” Bucky whined.

“No, Buck. Do you not trust me enough to spend time with Sam? Your best friend?”   
“It’s not that I don’t trust you, petal.”

“You don’t trust Sam?”

“No, no. I trust Sam. With my life. Which, at this point, is you to be honest.” Bucky chuckled, scratching the back of his head as he refused to look at you as he said those words. You smiled, letting them warm your heart for a second before continuing with the argument.

“Then what’s the problem.” You lifted your hand to Bucky’s cheek, forcing him to look at you.

“Sam talks a lot of shit. About me. Sometimes he doesn’t realise how much shit he talks and… I- I’m just scared one day you’ll start believin’ it.”

The words shocked you, Bucky revealing a bigger insecurity about your relationship than you imagined him having. Eager to wipe his mind of the thought you moved to sit in his lap, arms wrapping around his neck as you tugged him closer to you.

“Nothing anyone could tell me at this point would dissuade me from believing you are the most incredible, kind hearted, loving man on the planet.” You punctuated each adjective with a kiss across his cheek, inching closer to his mouth. When you kissed the corner of his mouth, Bucky moved again, pressing his lips to yours softly but urgently. 

You knew he wanted more, you could tell by the way his hands travelled to cup your ass, his tongue licking at your lower lip. But then the doorbell rang – incessantly – and Bucky groaned, letting you climb off his lap. 

“Coming, Sammy!” You called out, pulling Bucky out of bed and dragging him down the stairs to the shop. Sam was stood by the door, hands tucked in his jacket pocket. He smiled when he saw the two of you approaching, raising an eyebrow at Bucky who was halfway through pulling a t-shirt over his head.

“Nice buns, princess.” Sam winked at you when you opened the door and you tensed a little, glancing at Bucky to gauge his reaction. But, to your surprise, your boyfriend only let out a sigh, an actual smile gracing his features.

“Get her home by seven, Wilson,” Bucky pulled you into his arms, kissing you passionately as Sam made faux hurling noises in the background. You giggled against his lips, pulling away and stepping outside with Wilson.

“She has to finish what she started this morning!”


	13. Bridezilla

The phone rang whilst Bucky was in the little room. You picked it up on the second ring, with the shop being empty besides your boyfriend sat quietly finishing his sketches. 

“I heard you were the best florist in town.” The voice was smooth and yet hard like steel. It was a voice that could convince you to do anything. 

“Well tell whoever you heard it from, thank you very much,” you laughed heartily, trying to lift the mood. “What can I help you with?”

“I’m getting married n a few months and am looking for someone to do the arrangements.” It was a statement. No polite questioning or wondering. But you shrugged it off. A client was a client.

“Well, we can book you in for consultation where we can brainstorm some ideas, and then we go from there.” There was a silence on the other line and you swallowed. “That sound okay?”

“Can you fit me in today?” 

“Let me just check my calendar.” You tucked the phone between your ear and shoulder, rummaging for your diary where you kept all your appointments. The woman on the other line huffed impatiently and you grit your teeth. 

“I have someone coming in at two, but I’m free up until then. If you swing by at least a few hours before -“

“Okay, I’ll be there soon, thank you.”

“Wait I need your-“ The woman hung up. “-name.”

You huffed, placing the phone down in the receiver and shaking your head. You jot down the number of the woman that just called in the appointment slot. 

“Who was that?” Bucky was stood in the doorway, sketchbook tucked under his arm as he watched you get back to what you were doing before. 

“No clue. Have a feeling she’s gonna be a tough bride to deal with.” 

Bucky smiled, crossing the room and placing a kiss on your lips. 

“I’m sure whoever it is, you can deal with them.” He murmured into your hair. “I have to get back to the shop. I’m full up on appointments today.”

“Have fun! And send me pictures.” You smiled, always loving it when Bucky sent you photos of his work. 

“Wanna do something tonight?” He asked as he backed out the shop.

“Sorry, hanging out with the girls.” You shrugged, and Bucky nodded with a smile, loving how you had integrated Wanda and Peggy into your small group of friends. The four of you nearly always spent a night a week together – out or in someone’s apartment. 

You watched Bucky cross the road to Spilt Ink, only returning back to your work once his figure disappeared into his shop. You had been working on the bouquet for mere seconds when the bell above your door rang again.

“Forget your paints again?” You chuckled, sure it was Bucky. But when you looked up, you didn’t see Bucky in the doorway, but Natasha Romanoff. She stood before you, in knee high boots and a brown leather jacket, deep red hair flowing endlessly over her shoulders with her arms crossed and hip jutting out. Natasha raised an eyebrow at you when she noticed your jaw fall slack, the flower you were holding falling from your hands onto the counter. 

“Heard you were the best florist in town.” She repeated, voice as smooth and steely as it had been over the phone. She crossed the little room and you stood, straightening your apron as she approached. You swore the corners of her lips were tugging into a smirk. 

Natasha raised an eyebrow at you again.

“Let’s get started, shall we?”

\--

When you heard the knock on your door, you practically leaped off of your sofa, already half-drunk glass of wine sloshing precariously with your jolty movements. You set it down on the coffee table, sprinting to the door and pulling it open.

“You better have lots of wine because you would not believe what a day I’ve had.” 

The girls looked at each other, glancing at the one bottle of wine each they held, knowing it was probably not going to be enough. 

“We can switch to tequila if needs be.” Peggy shrugged, following you to the couch. You fell into it, picking up your wine glass again and taking a hefty gulp. 

“What happened?’ Alisha asked, sitting next to you and playing with your hair.

“Only possibly the worst thing that could ever happen to me. Natasha.”

“Natasha?” Wanda frowned, looking to Peggy.

“She’s getting married.” You sighed, sinking into the sofa cushions.

“And that’s bad because…”

“She wants me to do her flowers.” 

There was a silence amongst the girls as you took another gulp of the wine. Then, everyone sprung into motion. Alisha ran into the kitchen, pulling out three more wine glasses, as Jessie went to the drinks cabinet in your living room, grabbing four shot glasses and the tequila. 

“God she really hates me. Because she is the bride from hell. Not at all like what you guys said. She’s so demanding and uptight and… harsh. I swear she nearly made me cry three times in that one-hour meeting.”

“Oh, Y/N.” Wanda sighed, handing you a shot of tequila which you downed eagerly, the others following a little slower. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. It’s just something I have to do. It’s my job after all.” You sighed. “I just don’t get it, you know? Like yeah, I get maybe a little bit of resentment because I’m dating her ex but… she’s with Bruce now and they’re getting married and… they’re happy. And Bucky is happy with me… I hope.” You furrowed your brows and the group smiled comfortingly at you.

“She’s probably just scoping you out.” Peggy reasoned, rubbing her hand up and down your arm consolingly. 

“Yeah, she just… wants to get a good idea of you. Know-“

“What she’s up against?” You scoffed and felt instantly guilty saying it. “Sorry. I know you guys are friends with her I just…. Don’t know if I can do this one.”

Alisha shook her head and Jessie smiled, raising her wine glass at you.

“You are the best goddamn florist in town.” Jessie clinked her glass with yours. “You can handle a little Bridezilla.”

\--

It turns out Bridezilla was an understatement for whatever Natasha was being. Not only was she indecisive and demanding. She was rude – never saying please and thank you, always muttering offenses under her breath. It took all of you to just not kick her out of your damn shop. 

She always avoided times when Bucky was there, and you were grateful for that at least. You didn’t want him finding out about this. If he did, he’d intervene, and you wanted him to know – you wanted her to know – that you could handle his ex. You were as strong as she was.

But it was getting harder and harder. On the third meeting, when you showed her a beautiful bouquet arrangement design with the expensive flower she’d requested – a rare white orchid https://www.houseofisabella.co.uk/accessories-c21/decorative-c155/kensington-white-orchid-pretty-phalaenopsis-with-moss-in-shallow-glass-bowl-p12579 – she muttered something under her breath.

“Don’t know what Bucky sees in you, to be honest.” 

She meant for you to hear it. She was trying to provoke a reaction. But the thing was, she wasn’t expecting a reaction. She’d been told by Peggy and Wanda you were the sweetest – practically perfect. Over the past few days, she’d seen that for herself. It made her madder than if you’d turned out to be a bitch. 

But those words were the last straw. She’d offended you personally, she’d offended your work. But offending your relationship with Bucky was where you were going to draw the line.

“Natasha, I’m trying here. I am trying because I want to show you that I’m not afraid of you. I’m sorry if me dating Bucky upsets you. But I’m not sorry for dating him in the first place. He’s moved on, why the hell can’t you?” Your voice was level, but broke towards the end, a flare of anger seeping through as Natasha watched you cautiously.

“You think this is all about Bucky?” Natasha’s laugh was dry, and she shook her head. “I don’t care that you’re dating Bucky. I care that you’re taking everything from me.”

“Taking… how the-“

“Wanda, Peggy, Steve.” Natasha stood from her position at the table, pacing across the room as she flailed her arms around. “All of them don’t shut up about how goddamn nice you are. For god’s sake, Steve and Peggy didn’t stop talking about the fucking trip to Disneyland for months. And you know what would make this a whole lot easier, if you were taking all my friends away from me, and you were a bitch about it. Would it kill you to be spiteful for a second? Jesus Christ, you’re just so goddamn sweet and perfect-“

“Perfect?” You scoffed, interrupting her. “Are you kidding me? When I first found out Bucky had married you, I couldn’t sleep knowing he’d downgraded from that-“ you gestured to her before gesturing to yourself, “-to this.”

There was a silence as Natasha took in your words before she sighed, shaking her head as she looked out the street across to Spilt Ink. 

“I just… I don’t know what I was hoping to be honest. I don’t know why I did this.” She ran a hand over her face, grabbing her bag and heading towards the door.

“Natasha, wait.” You were actually surprised when she did stop. You took a breath before smiling at her. “I think we’ve got off on the wrong foot.”

You out stretched your hand, taking a step closer.

“Y/N. It would be an honour if you let me do the arrangements for your wedding.” 

She hesitated, staring at your hand before she slipped her own into yours, shaking it gently with a smile on her face.

“Natasha. And your flowers are really beautiful.” 

\--

“Petal, I finished early and was wondering if you wanted to catch that new horror movie at the cinema, you know the one with Emily Blunt and-“ Bucky froze when he looked into the appointment room, seeing you and Natasha sat beside each other. Your fingers were wrapped around cups of coffee, arrangement sketches and single flowers scattered across the work surface before you. 

You both looked up at him, smiles on your faces as the conversation you had been having trailed off. 

“Hey, guess what. Natasha and Bruce are getting married.” You grinned as Natasha lifted her hand to display the ring on her finger. 

“That’s- that’s great…” Bucky frowned harder and you and Natasha looked at you with a smile. You both stood, Natasha grabbing her coat and bag. 

“I’m gonna get going.” She pulled you into a hug and you squeezed back, confusing Bucky even more. “I’m sorry about earlier and… your flowers are really beautiful. I’m one lucky bride.” She grinned down at you and your heart warmed at her compliment. 

“Enjoy your night,” she brushed past you, smiling at Bucky before pausing. She rest her hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “She’s definitely a keeper, Barnes. See you tomorrow, Y/N. Drinks at-“

“-At yours at seven, got it. See you then!” You called after her as she shot you a wave, leaving your shop with Bucky standing frozen to the spot, the epitome of confused.

“Do I… Do I want to know?” He murmured as you wrapped your arms around his neck, smiling up at him.

“We talked things out. If you’re not okay with me hanging out with her, it’s totally okay. I can stop but…” you trailed off and Bucky chuckled. 

“You want to?”

“Well, she’s not as bad as I thought. Just… misunderstood I guess. She was scared she was losing her friends.”

Bucky paused, looking out the window of your shop as Natasha’s flashy convertible revved to life, speeding past the shop window. You watched him, wary of his reaction and answer, until he smiled down at her.

“Okay. Want to catch that movie?”

“Let’s go.”


	14. The First Dance

The invitation was addressed to the two of you. 

Y/N & James  
Please join us in celebrating our 50th wedding anniversary. 

Saturday, 23rd April 2018  
At 7:00pm  
Radcliffe Hall

With love,  
Jean and Kenneth Radcliffe

Jean had strolled into your shop early March and handed it to you personally, calling James in from the little room. You fingered the paper carefully, smoothing over its golden font and floral decorations. 

“I also wanted to ask if you would do the flowers?” Jean smiled up at you and you couldn’t help but give her a warm smile back.

“Of course, Jean. I would be honoured,” you rounded the counter, leaving Bucky to read the invitation as you gave Jean a small hug. “Congratulations.”

“You’ll come, won’t you?” She kept you in her arms, holding you no more than arm’s length away from her. Her head turned to Bucky. “Both of you.”

You both glanced at each other. You weren’t sure what to say. You wanted to of course. But this was the first event you would have been to together and it felt like you should talk it over first. You didn’t want Bucky to think he was forced to go to any event you were invited to by clients. 

“Of course.” Bucky shot Jean a smile, moving to stand by your side. He placed a hand on your back, looking down at you. “We wouldn’t miss it.”

-

One thing about Jean was she may seem like a normal old lady with a passion for flowers and shopping local. But the truth was, she and her husband Kenneth were rich as hell. And this wedding anniversary celebration wasn’t just a little party – it was a gigantic ball. Part of you was thankful that it was just that. Preparing the arrangements for the party took weeks – the golden, cream and yellow toned bouquets extravagant and using only the best flowers. This task distracted you from overthinking Bucky coming with you.

But it also distracted you from getting a dress for the event, and so three night before the party, you were sat in a pile of dresses on your floor on the phone to Alisha and Jessie. Bucky was sat on the bed, back against the headboard, half reading and half watching you freak out cautiously. 

“I literally have nothing, Ali,” you whined, throwing down another summer dress that was clearly not suitable for the calibre of event you were attending. “Jean said ball gowns and suits – I have nothing like that.”

“Just breathe, honey. We’ll bring round some options. I don’t think I have a ballgown but I do have some nicer dresses. Maybe we can make it look fancier with jewellery,” Ali soothed over the phone and you sighed, smiling sadly up at Bucky. He had been prepared and rented a tux a couple of days ago. 

“It’s fine, Ali. I’ll see if Jean is okay with me wearing that pantsuit I bought for an interview a couple of years ago.” You chuckled, but your pout indicated that you were hoping to have something better. 

“I’m gonna go get us some food, petal,” Bucky stood from the bed, rounding the room and bending down to plcae a kiss on your forehead. You sighed and leaned into his touch, fingers wrapping around his arm and keeping him there for a second.

“I’m sorry, Bucky. I’ve not been very interactive tonight.” 

“It’s fine, doll. Try not to stress too much over what you’re wearing. You’ll be the most beautiful woman in the room whatever you wear.” Bucky kissed your forehead again and stood. The words pulled at your heartstrings and you smiled, relaxing a little knowing at least one person wasn’t going to be fixated on what you were wearing that night. 

Unbeknownst to you, however, Bucky had a plan. As soon as he’d left your apartment, he rang a friend – Tony Stark.

“What can I do for you, Barnes?” Tony immediately picked up.

“I need a favour… it’s for Y/N.”

“Your florist girl? What’s up?”

“Do you still have contacts at that dress company on Brown Street?” Bucky climbed onto his motorbike, starting the engine but not setting off until he got confirmation from Stark.

“Yup, why? Thinking of entering the drag business.”

“I’m always thinking about that, Stark,” Bucky teased, “You reckon they can open up now and get me a dress for Y/N.”

“Be there in ten minutes.” Stark hung up and with that, Bucky slipped his phone into his pocket and was on his way. 

\--

You’d moved out of the bedroom when Bucky left, knowing the dresses surrounding you were not helping in your search for a perfect outfit. So you curled up with Buttercup on the couch, an episode of Queer Eye playing as you pouted at your failed attempt in finding a dress. 

“I bet you Tan could find me a beautiful ball gown, couldn’t he?” You kissed Buttercup between the ears and the dog whined a little in response, nudging his head into your hand for a scratch.

“Fear not, young princess, your fairy godmother has arrived!” 

You turned to see Bucky waltzing through the door of your apartment, large black bag in hand and plastic bag of food swinging from his fingers. He had a shit eating grin on your face and your eyes widened. Buttercup jumped off your lap and pawed at Bucky’s feet – the dogs way of greeting your boyfriend. When you realised what he’d done, you shot up, hands covering your mouth when you gasped.

“Bucky, you shouldn’t have.”

But Bucky shook his head, placing the food on the kitchen counter and handing you the bag.

“Don’t say that yet! You haven’t seen the dress.” He picked Buttercup up and sat on the sofa, nodding his head to your bedroom. “But I think you’ll like it.”

You squealed and ran into the room, throwing the bag on the bed and unzipping it to reveal perhaps the most beautiful dress you’d ever seen in your life. You squealed again, louder this time, and Bucky beamed.

“I think she likes it,” he lifted Buttercup so they were eye level and the dog yapped, licking his face. Bucky chuckled and squeezed his eyes shut. 

“What do you think?” Your voice in the doorway turned Bucky’s head towards you and his jaw dropped, moving Buttercup gently from his lap so he could stand. 

As he made his way over to you, you watched his movements. His eyes raked over your body, admiring the embroidery, the fabric, the cut… maybe the neckline cut for a little too long. You giggled at his lingering gaze and Bucky smirked, hands making their way to your hips so he was stood a little closer.

“You look stunning,” he murmured, eyes meeting yours. You smiled up at him, resting your hands on his biceps. “I am going to be very jealous of all the looks you’ll be getting at this party.”

“Gentle reminder that the majority of guests are about seventy?” You chuckled.

“They still have eyes, don’t they?”

You let out a loud laugh at Bucky’s words and Bucky’s eyes fixed to your neckline again, admiring the skin on display.

“God you’re so beautiful,” he muttered, lowering his head to attach his lips to your neck.

“Alright, alright,” you rolled your eyes, trying to disguise your delight at his compliments but you couldn’t stop the smile spreading on your face. “I’m gonna go take this off before you rip it off me.”

Bucky groaned watching you leave with a smirk on his face.

“Now you’re giving me ideas.”

\--

The day of the party, you didn’t see Bucky at all. You were too busy loading and unloading flowers at the venue and helping them set up. It was only at around 6pm, when Bucky knocked on your door to pick you up, that you finally both saw each other.

You’d paired the dress with a simple necklace, so as not to distract from the neckline, forgoing bracelets given the extravagant sleeves. You wore your usual rings and some gold flower earrings.

Bucky looked incredibly breath taking in his suit when you opened the door and the words vanished from your mouth when you saw him. Bucky was equally as flawed by your outfit, and stuttered out a greeting, his signature smooth talk ways vanishing with one look at your dress.

“Ready to go?” Bucky asked, holding out his hand, palm up for you to take. You nodded with a smile, slipping your hand in his and letting him guide you out of your apartment and to the red Mustang Bucky had borrowed from Peggy. He’d received strict instructions not to damage the car, warily entrusting Bucky with the keys for the short twenty-minute drive to the hall. 

When you arrived at the party, you were whisked in different directions, separated from eachothers sides only to be attached to various groups throughout the night. You were guided by Jean through groups of her friends – receiving glowing compliments on your dress followed by even more glowing compliments on the floral arrangements once Jean told them you were the florist. 

Bucky followed you a few steps behind, seeking a window to get you by his side again. He watched as champagne flute after champagne flute graced your hand. You tried to drink slowly he noted – little sips at the start of the conversation. But as the conversation grew longer, so did your responses – resulting in a few nods and hums, the sips turning to gulps. 

Suddenly, a riveting conversation with a banker about investments and franchising your flower shop was interrupted by Kenneth standing on the stage, champagne flute in hand and microphone in the other. Bucky took his opportunity then, gliding across the floor to wrap an arm around your waist. You tensed, programmed to react to this movement as though it were Jean leading you to yet another group to listen to. But when you looked up and noticed the comforting eyes of your boyfriend, you nearly groaned in relief. 

You leaned into his touch, letting him excuse you from the banker and pull you to a free space near the stage, taking another gulp of your champagne.

“You know, these ourderve things plus all this champagne really isn’t a good combination. I don’t know how drunk people do it.” You muttered, feeling the champagne go to your head. 

“Just another hour or so, petal, and then we’ll go back to mine and get Chinese, eh?” Bucky wrapped his other arm around your waist, pulling your back flush against his torso.

“That sounds perfect.” You thought about getting out of these heels and this, although beautiful, restricting dress. And then you thought about the college sweater tucked away in a drawer in Bucky’s apartment, saved just for you to change into whenever you stayed the night and hummed in approval. Bucky smiled, squeezing you a little as you listened to Kenneth’s speech.

You were sure you’d zone out, not sure you were able to handle listening to much more talking. But Kenneth’s words drew you in and had both you and Bucky holding your breath. The way he talked about his love for Jean and the effect she had on him had the room silent in awe, tears forming in everyone’s eyes. You choked back a sob when he finished, Jean running onto the stage and giving him a tight hug and kiss. You, Bucky and everyone in the room erupted into applause and then the band began. 

Bucky’s arm remained fixed on your waist, not intending on letting you go now. He spun you around in his arms, smiling down at you.

“You look stunning, petal. I didn’t tell you that enough tonight.” He commented, hand gently caressing your cheek before settling on the side of your neck. You smiled crookedly up at him, hands smoothing down the lapels of his jacket.

“You look particularly good tonight too, James.” 

Bucky’s heart fluttered at your words and was about to lean in and kiss you when a dancing Jean and Kenneth spun past you, hovering slightly before you.

“Come on you two, dance!” Jean giggled. No one was on the dancefloor besides the two of them – everyone else watching. You chewed your lip nervously, but Bucky wasn’t scared. Instead, he stepped around you towards the dancefloor, hand outstretched to you as the soft sound of A Sunday Kind of Love by Etta James echoed around the room. 

You hesitated slightly but when Bucky smiled at you, eyes glinting, you were drawn in, stepping closer and letting him pull you into him, instantly twirling you around the dancefloor. 

You were expecting others to join but they didn’t, just watching as you and Bucky, and Kenneth and Jean, spun across the dancefloor to this song. It stopped, and you pulled away, but Bucky kept you in place as Frank Sinatra’s I’ve Got You Under My Skin began, the tempo quicker and causing you to laugh at Bucky’s movements.

Inhibitions flew out the window as you let Bucky twirl you and spin you, singing the words wrong at every chance he could. The room watched the young couple dance, smiles on their faces as they took in your joy.

Jean stopped dancing with her husband stepping to the side, unbeknownst to you as you and Bucky continued to laugh and dance together. She smiled at you, noticing your happiness, before tilting her head back and resting it on her husband’s chest, looking up at him.

“Do you think she’s going to do her own arrangements for their wedding?”


	15. Tattoo Support

Bucky was getting selective with his tattoos. It wasn’t that he’d stopped enjoying getting them. But when he was younger, he’d got anything and everything – littering his limbs with tattoos he’d grown to love and tattoos he’d grown to hate. He didn’t regret any of them… just wanted more he loved than hated from now on. 

But when Steve had drawn a particular tattoo one day, showing it to Bucky, Bucky knew he’d needed to get it. He’d told you about it and, having never seen Bucky tattooed before, you asked if you could be there. And so, on a Tuesday evening, long after you’d shut your shop and Spilt Ink finished its last appointment, you’d walked into the tattoo parlour across the road to see Bucky already in the chair, shirt off and arm raised to give Steve access to his ribs. 

You gave Peggy a hug in greeting, giving your boyfriend a small peck on the lips and then brushed your hand over Steve’s shoulder in greeting. All of them smiled at you as you settled into a chair by the side of Bucky, opposite to the side being tattooed. You lay a book in your lap, unsure of how long it would take, but really you wanted to watch the process. 

When the needle first met Bucky’s skin, Bucky flinched slightly, gritting his teeth and you instinctively wrapped your hand around his forearm, your other hand taking a hold of his and tangling your fingers together. You squeezed softly, smiling at him, and Bucky smiled back.

“Distract me, petal,” he winced again when the needle stung his skin. 

You talked then, about random things. Your trip to Disneyland, your shop, your family. You argued about little things like whether there was turmeric in the fish you’d had last night. And when you made Bucky laugh, you’d receive a half-hearted glare from Steve when his ribs moved, leaving both you and Bucky to sheepishly smile at him, then one another, and apologise. 

As you distracted him however, soothing him with gentle strokes up his forearm and over his shoulder, Bucky felt the pain lessening. Perhaps you were distracting him, perhaps it was his body getting used to the feeling the pain. Whatever it was made the time go quicker and, although the last twenty minutes were pretty painful, eventually, Steve clicked the machine off and wiped the tattoo down. 

“Can I see it?” You asked, standing from your seat. Bucky nodded, moving slightly to angle his body more towards you. You stood before him, lowering your head slightly to get a better look at it. It was a hand, classically designed, holding a bouquet of wildflowers and you couldn’t help but smile, recognising the small ring on the pointer finger as one of your own.

It was inevitable given the restless kind of love Natasha and Bucky had had that he’d have nods to her on his skin and although the collection of flowers he had acquired over the last year could be a reference to you, this was the first one that was a solid reference and instead of scaring you, it filled your heart with joy.

“You like it?” Bucky tangled his fingers through yours lifting your hand to kiss it. You smiled again, turning to watch Steve wrap the tattoo up. 

“I love it.”


	16. Bouquet

The coffee machine was too loud. You leant against the counter next to it, nervously staring at the kitchen door as if Bucky was going to walk through any minute. The sun was shining through your now opened blinds and Buttercup had crawled sleepily from his bed into the kitchen, laying in the sun patch. 

A tray sat on the counter beside you, a variety of pastries and breakfast foods organised neatly across it. You’d added a vase of flowers, some of Bucky’s favourites and then the Arizona Grandiflora right in the middle, emerging proudly amongst the others. 

Finally, the coffee machine finished its job and you placed the pot on the tray, thankful Bucky hadn’t awoken yet.

“Come on, Buttercup,” you said softly and the dog twitched at your voice. When he heard your footsteps across the kitchen tiles and in the hallway, he bounded after you, immediately running into your bedroom and onto your bed.

Buttercup pawed at Bucky’s back, whining when Bucky groaned and rolled onto his front, hair splaying out across the pillow.

“Morning, buttface,” Bucky grumbled, prying his eyes open and scratching the dog on the head. He focused on the dog for a few seconds and you watched on, holding the tray at the door, but eventually his eyes flitted to you. 

“Happy anniversary,” You stepped into the room, gently sitting on the bed. Bucky was quick to sit up and take the tray from you, letting you swing your legs over the bed before placing it on his knees. Buttercup climbed into your lap, nuzzling into your stomach as you leaned back on the headboard.

“Happy anniversary, petal,” Bucky smiled, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss on your lips. “One year down, eh.”

“You make it sound like a sentence,” you giggled. Bucky chuckled too, brushing his hand over your cheek and cupping it gently. 

“Mmhmm and I’m in for life,” he kissed you again, a bit harder this time, capturing your bottom lips between his and running his tongue across your lips. You smiled again, pushing him softly away and reaching for the coffee pot.

“Coffee’s getting cold,” you said as you poured two mugs of coffee. Bucky watched, eyes scanning the breakfast with hungry eyes before they settled on the flowers. He frowned for a second, fingers reaching out to stroke the petals of the Arizona Grandiflora, and then he smiled.

“Still the best.”

You felt heat rising to your face, reminded of why you had put it there in the first place, and you hung your head to hide your expression from Bucky. Thankfully he didn’t notice, tucking into a pastry with a satisfied moan and sipping his coffee. 

“So, what’s the plan?” He asked. The two of you agreed you didn’t want to do anything too fancy for your anniversary, the idea of dressing up and going out seeming too much. Not because it was a big event, the exact opposite. You wanted to celebrate your relationship today and that meant breakfast in bed, Buttercup by your side, and surrounded by things you love.

“Well, I was thinking lunch with Steve and Peggy around one,” you bit into a croissant, the crumbs collecting on your lap only to be licked up by Buttercup. “Then…” You trailed off, gulping and looking at Bucky in the eyes. Bucky frowned, biting his lip.

“Then?”

You set your croissant down, lifting Buttercup so you could turn to face him. You tried to figure out what to say, mouth opening and closing a few times, but it was no use. Instead, you reached for the vase, carefully lifting the rose from the middle and holding it between your fingers.

“I was thinking, if you have time, you could… draw this and then when it’s done …” you trailed off and Bucky’s eyes widened, realising what you were asking. He felt the breath being knocked out of him and his heart racing in excitement.

“Petal…” 

You looked up and met Bucky’s eyes, tearing up and full of joy and you breathed out a laugh, feeling your own eyes fill with tears. Bucky’s hand slid down your arm, resting gently on your wrist as he looked down at the rose.

“Are you sure?” he asked, and you knew it was a two-sided question. Were you sure about the tattoo? Yes. Were you sure about him?

“Absolutely.”

Bucky quickly lifted the tray from his lap, placing it on the table next to him before he threw your arms around you, the force of it toppling you backwards and sending Buttercup running from between you. Bucky lay on top of you, weight pressed against you as he squeezed you tight, peppering kisses across your cheeks, neck, collarbone. Buttercup pawed at the bed next to you, yapping excitedly as you laughed loudly, turning your head playfully away from Bucky’s kisses. 

Eventually, he calmed a little, lifting his weight of you but propping himself above you. He looked down at you with a smile and you reached up to brush a stray strand of hair out of his face, keeping your hand against his cheek.

“I love you,” he whispered. You bit your lip, hands trailing down to the waistband of his pyjama pants. You snapped your fingers at Buttercup, pointing to the door and the dog whined but followed your orders, jumping from the bed and trotting out the room. 

“I love you too.”

\---

Bucky took his usual seat in the little room, sketchbook on his knee and Buttercup by his feet. Occasionally he was drawn out when a regular customer came in and wanted to congratulate you. He’d always magnetise himself to your side, smiling widely at the customer and telling them he was the luckiest guy in the world. Each time it made your heart flutter.

Just before lunch, Ali and Jessie stopped by, promising to take care of the shop whilst you took a long lunch with Steve and Peggy. You sat and talked with them for a while, sipping coffee as you gathered around the table in the meeting room, leaving Bucky to his devices in the little room. 

“So, when’s the wedding?” Jessie asked, after you’d finished the story of this morning’s events. You choked on your coffee, setting the mug down on the table as your eyes watered. The girls giggled and you shook your head.

“He didn’t- we aren’t.” 

“I know, darling,” Jessie laughed. “I’m just saying, you’re meant for each other. It wouldn’t surprise me if…” She trailed off, shooting Ali a sideways glance and you frowned again, opening your mouth to question it but the girls just shook their head.

“Do you want to thought?” Ali leant forward.

“Want to what?”

“Marry him.”

You choked on air this time, glancing nervously at the door to make sure Bucky wasn’t in earshot.

“I mean… I’ve thought about it.”

The girls squealed and you smiled widely, running a hand through your hair and leaning back.

“Okay so, if he walked into this room right now, got down on one knee and said ‘Y/N, will you marry me?’ what would you say?” Jessie leaned forward too, watching your reaction thoroughly. You let yourself picture it, Bucky knelt in front of you with a ring in his hand, and you couldn’t help but feel yourself smile wildly at the idea, drawing your lip between your teeth to try and stop the smile. The answer was clear from your expression but just as you were about to confirm verbally, tongue pressed to the inside of your teeth in the beginnings of a y-

“Petal,” you snapped your head to the doorway, finding Bucky stood there, jacket on and leaning against the doorframe. “Ready to go?”

You smiled at him, praying he hadn’t heard your conversation, before you stood.

“You sure you’re okay looking after the shop?” You turned to Ali and Jessie who giggled, shaking their head at the conversation that had just passed.

“Very sure, enjoy your lunch.” Jessie stood, practically pushing you into Bucky’s arms. Bucky just smiled, snaking an arm around your waist before saying a quick goodbye to the girls. You couldn’t help but feel flustered at the topic of the last conversation, your thoughts playing over and over in your head. You couldn’t get the image of Bucky proposing out of your head.

“You good?” Bucky asked when you stepped outside. You just nodded, climbing on behind him and pushing all thoughts of it out of your head. It was too soon, right?

You pulled into the town centre and parked the bike, Bucky immediately wrapping his arm around your waist as you walked to the café. Steve and Peggy were waiting outside for you already, and both greeted you with hugs and congratulations. 

“One year down, huh?” Steve smiled as he pulled his chair in, smiling at the two of you. You and Bucky looked at each other sheepishly, remembering your comment from this morning. 

Conversation focused around you and Bucky, most of it reminiscing over aspects of your relationship. The first I love you, the first trip to Disney, the first time you danced together at Jean’s anniversary. 

When desert finally came around, you and Bucky sharing a crème Brule and coffee as you leaned into each other. Steve called a waiter over, whispering in his ear when you and Bucky were too focused on each other to notice what he was doing. But Peggy smiled at her boyfriend, linking her arm in his as the two of them watched you.

You only broke your gaze from each other when the waiter approached again, this time with a tray carrying four champagne flutes full of fizzy liquid. Your eyes widened, turning to Steve who just smirked and shrugged, taking his flute from the waiter as he passed them around.

“I just wanted to make a toast,” he said when the waiter had gone and everyone was holding their champagne. Bucky smiled at him, tugging you closer.

“Y/N, I always hoped Bucky would find his Peggy in life,” he glanced down at his girlfriend who smiled widely up at him, “and admittedly, it took him a while and a couple of mistakes to get to you. But in the end, the person he’s become with you and the good your relationship has done for everyone around you, makes everything worth it. People may think a florist and a tattoo artist are two wildly different kinds of people, but you two are meant for each other. And I may be a stupid romantic who believes in soulmates, but if that means believing in you two, then I wouldn’t have it any other way. To Y/N and Bucky.” 

“To Y/N and Bucky,” Peggy repeated, both her and Steve tearing up. You smiled at the two, tears already streaming down your face as you all raised your glances, clinking them together before everyone silently took a sip. 

“God, Steve,” Bucky shook his head, smiling sadly at his best friend. “You tryna kill me?” He tugged you closer kissing your hair. Thankfully, Peggy changed the subject, talking to Steve about something to do with the shop so you and Bucky could compose yourselves. 

“Petal,” Bucky’s voice was a whisper in your ear. “Can I show you something?”

You frowned but nodded, watching as he reached into his bag and pulled out his sketchbook. He placed it on the table in front of you, arm draping over your shoulder as he opened to a page.

You gasped when you saw the drawing, eyes filling with tears as you took in the details.

“Do you like it?” Bucky whispered, biting his lip. “I can just do the flower if you want, without th-“

“It’s perfect,” you threw your arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug before releasing him and staring at the drawing. The drawing was of a woman’s hand – your hand to be exact, with your ring and the sleeve of one of your blouses. Except circling around your forearm and wrist was the thorny stem of a rose, stretching into your PALM, a delicate replica of the Arizona Grandiflora emerging from between you thumb and fingers. Across from it, another hand – this time clearly Bucky’s – with his distinct tattoos on his fingers, hands and wrist. It was posed so it was reaching out for the rose. 

“I can do it today if you’d like,” Bucky kissed your neck, letting you admire the drawing. 

“Right now?” You asked excitedly, and Bucky nodded, laughing at your enthusiasm. You immediately searched for a waiter, getting the cheque and eagerly paying the bill before you dragged Bucky out the restaurant, Steve and Peggy following behind with confused expressions.

“What the hell is going on?” Peggy laughed, watching you run to the bike and fix your helmet over your head.

“She’s getting a tattoo,” Bucky grinned, pulling his own helmet on and climb on the bike, kicking it to life as you climbed on the back. Steve and Peggy’s eyes widened, and they shared a look before running to their car, hopping in and following Bucky’s close behind to the shop.

You didn’t start feeling nervous until you were in the chair. You’d been sat beside this chair so often, watching Bucky tattoo Steve and vice versa. But now it was you. You shifted as Bucky prepped the equipment, leather squeaking with each movement. Bucky kept glancing at you, shooting you worried smiles.

“You sure about this, petal?” He asked, voice smooth. You thought you’d have some doubts given the nerves, at least a small part of you wanting to say no. But there was no doubt and so you nodded eagerly. 

Eventually, Bucky finished with his preparations, shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows and black gloves pulled over his hands. He moved closer to you, legs parting so he could get nearer to the chair, and then lifted the machine.

“Ready?” He looked up at you with a smile, but his eyes were serious, indicating you could back out if you wanted to. You bit your lip, feeling a flutter of nerves again, but there was still no doubt.

“Absolutely.”

The needle stung your skin, piercing and sharp until tears welled in your eyes. But then Bucky’s hand smoothed over your arm and you looked into his eyes – right there is where the pain ended. Peggy lowered herself into the chair beside you and softly placed her hand on your arm, Steve stood behind her. The two of them talked to you soothingly, slowly, making them focus on their voice as Bucky worked his magic.

You didn’t know how long it took, you weren’t sure you wanted to. Peggy and Steve distracted you with conversation, snacks and they even brought their laptop into the studio so you could watch Friends as Bucky worked. 

Eventually, it stopped. You braced yourself for the needle again… but it never came, instead you felt the relief of water being wiped over your arm and your breath hitched in your throat, realising he’d finished.

“Done?” Your voice was shaky and hoarse, unable to believe this was happening right now. It was only when you heard Bucky’s soft voice in your ear that you relaxed. 

“Done.”

Steve and Peggy gave you comforting smiles as you slowly turned, fixing your eyes on Bucky’s.

“Petal, you have to look at it at some point,” Bucky laughed nervously, worried you’d hate it. You lifted your untattooed arm and placed your hand on his cheek. 

“Sorry, I just… Okay…” you breathed, letting a crazy smile spread across your face. “One, two, three.”

You looked down and proceeded to have the breath knocked out of you, the artwork on your arm even more beautiful than you could have imagined. You choked back a sob, lifting your hand from Bucky’s cheek to your mouth. 

“Bucky…” you breathed, unable to form a coherent sentence. But it didn’t matter, your reaction told Bucky all he needed to know, and he relaxed, breathing a sigh of relief. He let you admire it in silence for a while, biting his lip to stop his proud smile. 

“It’s definitely your best work,” Steve commented, Peggy nodding in agreement. 

“It’s beautiful,” she squeezed your arm, standing up and fetching the bandages. They hovered over you for a second, watching as you admired every little detail, twisting your arm to get a better angle for each part. Then, once you’d taken it all in, you leaned over the arm rest and placed a kiss on his lips.

“Let’s get it wrapped up, shall we?” Peggy smiled, taking over from Bucky so he could wash his hands. 

“I’ll just clear this all up, petal and then we can pick Buttercup up and go back to mine. I have a present waiting for you there.” 

“Another?” You raised an eyebrow but Bucky just smiled, turning back to the sink.

“Don’t worry about clearing up, Bucky, we’ll do it.” Peggy insisted after she’d finished wrapping your arm, earning a slight scoff from Steve.

“Yeah, we do it all the time anyway, why would tonight be any different?” Peggy hit Steve who overreacted but smiled. Bucky let out a small laugh, drying his hands, and you stood from the chair, rolling your back and stretching your legs. Bucky picked up his jacket from the table, not realising the contents of his pocket had fallen out, and threw his arm around you.

“Let’s go,” he smiled, and you beamed back, relaxing into his side as the two of you walked out of the shop. 

Bucky was about to kick start his bike, jacket now on, when he realised his pockets were empty. His eyes widened, and he quickly climbed off the bike.

“One second.”

The bell above the door rang and Steve smiled, picking up the small velvet box from the reception counter as Bucky ran back into the shop panting. His eyes dropped to the box in Steve’s hands and he smiled sheepishly, holding his hands out. 

Steve laughed, throwing it in the air. Bucky caught it perfectly, checking its contents before slipping it into his jacket pocket. Steve smiled at his friend as you called out to him from outside.

“Knock her dead, pal.”


End file.
